The belman of London Bringing to light the most notorious villanies that are now practised in the kingdome. Profitable for gentlemen, lawyers, merchants, citizens, farmers, masters of housholdes, and all sorts of seruants to mark, and delightfull for all men to reade.

The belman of London Bringing to light the most notorious villanies that are now practised in the kingdome. Profitable for gentlemen, lawyers, merchants, citizens, farmers, masters of housholdes, and all sorts of seruants to mark, and delightfull for all men to reade.

Table of contents

Title page

A Table of the principall matters contained in this Booke.

The poore BELMAN of London, To all those that either by office are sworne to punish, or in their owne loue to vertue, wish to haue the disorders of a state amended, humbly dedicateth these his discoueries.

THE Bel-man of London. Discoueing the most notable villanies now in the Kingdome.

An Vpright-man.

A Ruffler.

An Angler.

A Rogue.

A wilde Rogue.

A Prigger of Prancers.

A Palliard.

A Frater.

A Quire-bird.

An Abraham-man.

A Whipiack.

A counterfeit Crank.

A Dummerar.

A Iacke-man and a Patrico.

An Irish Toyle.

A Swigman.

A kinchin Coe.

Of cheating Lawe.

Of Barnards Law.

Vincents Law.

The Black Art.

The Curbing Law.

The Prigging Law.

The Lifting Law.

The High-Law.

The Sacking Law.

The Figging Law.

The fiue Iumpes at Leape-frog.

Operis Peroratio. A short Discourse of Canting, which is the Langguage spoken by all the Ragged Regiment, that serue vnder the collours of the Belman.

A short Dialogue betweene an Vp-right-man and a Rogue in the Canting-language. The Vpright Cofe Canteth to the Roague.

The Vpright-man speaketh to the Rogue.

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The Belman of London. BRINGING TO LIGHT THE MOST NOTORIOVS Villanies that are now practised in the Kingdome. Profitable for Gentlemen, Lawyers, Merchants, Cittizens, Farmers, Masters of Housholdes, and all sorts of seruants to mark, and delightfull for all men to reade.

Lege, Perlege, Relege.

The third impression, with new aditions.

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Printed at London for Nathaniell Butter. 1608.

A Table of the principall matters contained in this Booke.

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A Discouerie of all the idle Vagabonds in England: their conditions: their Lawes amongst themselues: their degrees and orders: their meetings and their maners of liuing, both men and women.

A discouerie of certaine secret villanies, which borrowe to themselues the names of Lawes.

AS

Cheating Law.

Vincents Law.

Courbing Law.

Lifting Law.

Sacking Law.

Fiue Iumpes at Leap-frog.

Bernards Lawe.

The black Art.

Prigging Law.

High Law.

Figging Law.

The poore BELMAN of London, To all those that either by office are sworne to punish, or in their owne loue to vertue, wish to haue the disorders of a state amended, humbly dedicateth these his discoueries.

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AT your Gates the Belman of London beateth, to awaken your eies, to looke back after certaine Grand and common abuses, that daily walke by you, keeping aloofe (in corners) out of the reach of Law. It must be the hand of your a [...] thoritie that must fetch in these Rebels to the weale-publike, and your arme that must strike them: I chuse you as Patrons, (not to my booke) but to defend me from those Monsters, whose dennes I breake open in this my discouery. More dangerous they are to a State, then a Ciuill warre, because their vilanies are more subtill and more endu [...]ing. The Belman not withstanding hath plaide the Owle (who is the Embleme of wisdome) for sleeping in the day, as abhorring to behold the impie [...]ies of this last and worst age of the world: In the night therefore hath hee stolne foorth, and with the help of his Lanthorne and Candle (by which is figured circumspection) hath he brought to light, that broode of mischiefe, which is ingendered in the wombe of darkenesse. Amonstrous birth is it, and therefore worthy to be looked at: from monstrous parents doth it proceede, and therefore the sight of it to be fearefull. But of such rare temper are your [Page] eyes, that (as if they had sunne-beames in them) they are able to exhale vp all these contagious breaths which poyson a kingdome, & so to spe [...]se them into thin aire, that they shall vtterly vanish, and be no more offensiue. In this blacke shore of mischiefe haue I sayled along, and bene a faithfull discouerer of all the creekes, rockes, gulfes and quick-sands, in and about it: Be you therefore as second aduenturers, and furnish men armed with Iustice, and well furnished in all points, with a desire to conquer these Sauages, & send them to set strong and fearfull footing amongst them. It shall be honour to your felues, and them, and a rich benefit to the Republik wherein you liue. For my own part I vow, that as I dedicate these my labours to your hands, so will I deuote my life to the safety of my Countrie, in defending her from these Serpents: I will waste out mine eies with my candles, and watch from midnight till the rysing vp of the morning: my Bell shall euer be ringing, and that faithfull seruant of mine (the Dog that follows me) be euer biting of these wilde beastes, till they be all driuen into one heard, and so hun [...]ed into the toiles of the Lawe. Accept therefore of this Night-prize (my Graue and worthy Patrons) drawne rudely, and presented bouldly, because I know the colours layde vppon it, are not counterfeite as those of borrowd beauties: but this is a picture of Villanie, drawen to the life, of purpose that life might be d [...]awne from it. None can be offended with it but such as are guiltie to themselues, that they are such as are inrold in this Muster booke, for whose anger, or whose stab, I care not. At no mans bosome doe I particularly strike, but onely at the body of Vice in Generall: if my manner of Fight (with these dangerous Masters of the Ignoblest Science that euer was in any kingdome) do get but plau [...]e, the Belman shall shortly bid you to another Prize, where you shall see him play at other kinde of weapons.

Deuoted night and day yours, The Belman of London.

THE Bel-man of London. Discoueing the most notable villanies now in the Kingdome.

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THe world at the first was made of nothing and shal a the last bee cousumed to nothing. The fashion of it is round, for as a Circle is the most perfit figure, So this, the rarest and most absolute frame, that euer the Creator made. It was indeed (excepting that which was like himselfe) his Maister peice.

In this great world did he place a little world (and as the lesser wheeles in a clock being set a going, giue motion to the greatest, and serue them as guides) So that little world (called man) doth by his Art, office and power, controule the greater: yet is there such a harmony in both their motions, that though in quantitie they differ farre, they agree in qualitie: and though the one was made somewhat before the other, yet are they so like, that they seeme to be instruments belonging to one Engine. For man is made vp by the mixture of foure complections, Bloud, Flegme, Choller, and Melancholly▪ The world is a ball made vp of foure Elements, Water, Ayre, Earth, and Fire, yea these very Elements haue likewise parts in him. The world is circular, So is man, for let him stand vpright and extend forth his armes to the length, A line drawen from his nauell to all the vtmost limits of his body, makes his body Orbiculer. And as man hath foure [Page] ages, Infancie, Child-hood, Youth and olde age: so hath the world, in which foure measures of time are filled out, the Risinges and fallings, the growings vp and the witherings both of the one and the other.

The infancy of the world was the golden age (not so called because men had at that time more golde then they haue now,Description of the 4 ages of the world. (for not to deceiue you, there was (then) not a peece of golde stirring) but as this sacred mettall is the purest that the earth can bring foorth, so the golden age was the best of all the foure and the most blessed: For then all the earth was but one garden, where (without planting) grew all sorts of trees,Golden age. which (without grafting) carryed all sortes of fruites: the ground was not wrinckled with [...]urrowes, for there were then no Plough-men to misuse her beauty: the Sea was not rugged, for there were then no Ships to bruse her body: there were no countries, for there were no Kinges: all the world was but one Land, and all the people in it but one Nation: who knew not how to obey any, because none amongst them had a desire to commaūd: their houses were y• shadowy couerings of trees, & their statelyest buildings were grauen bowes, Iustice in those daies had eyes, and Pittie eares, for none could complain of wrong and not be reléeued, nor any crie out for want, who were not satisfied: Oppression was either then not borne, or if shee were in the world she had no handes to strike, or if shee did strike, the blowes were no other then such as when with a sword wee cut the water, they did no harme. The Law (in this golden time) got no golde: there were neither Counsellors to pleade, nor Atturneys to plodde vp and downe: the name of a Fee-taking was not knowne: there were no Clyents, and therefore no Courts kept, neither Tearme nor Uacations: what a merrie world was this? The frozen nailes of winter, nor the pestilent scorching breath of Summer did not then destroy the fruites of the earth: there was no Autumne, for there was no yeare; the whole year [...] was but one month, and that month was euer, nay, it was a continuall Spring, so that man (the Emperour of earth) grew proud, insolent, and sawcie: the fulnesse of this happinesse making him swell into such a disdaine of the gods, that hee preferred the vizeroy-ship of this lower kingdom (bestowed vpon him by them) and [Page] the pleasures vppon which he surfeted heere, before those felicities which they enioy'd aboue. Whereuppon as men in these dayes, so did the Gods in those, hould vp to themselues that Golden age: they tooke it away from mortals, because they were vnworthy of it, And on a sudden changed it into white mony, so that the Golden age became the Siluer.

As those two mettalls (of Gold and Siluer) are in dgrees of basenes one to another, So were those two ages in degrees of Badnes. The Siluer age The siluer age was worse then the former: the change of mettalls brought in the change of maners: for now men pluckd feathers from the winges of Ambition, and with those plumes laboured to flie one aboue another: their Braines now wrought day and night how to frame tooles to cut downe trees, of those trees to build houses, of those houses to set vp Citties, of those Citties to raise Kingdomes, and from those Kingdomes to deriue souerainties. In this Siluer-Cradle of the world, Arts were borne, and Trades put to nursse Time hauing now got siluer haires on his head (but as yet it was not balde) prouided himselfe of a sickle and a glasse full [...]of sand: with the one did he teach men how to deuide the Seasons, into quarters, moneths, weekes, dayes and houres: with the other, how to cutte downe Corne: For foure Princes did now by course rule the year:4▪ seasons of the yeare. two of them milde, two of them cruell: two of them were liberall, full of mirth, full of maiestie, full of beautie: the other two were hard fauour'd, dogged, addicted to melancholly, to diseases, to hate mankinde, to hurt the earth, and to rob both of all, that the former two had giuen to them. This Siluer-age of the worlde, was the worlds Childehood, and therfore like a childe it grew wayward and inconstant: It was apt to fall out, and soone to be pleased: as you may see the whel [...]s of Lions wanton at first and ready to playe euen with infants, and not to harme them, with whome afterwardes armed men dare not encounter, So in this second playe vppon the great Theater of the worlde, men shewed like shepheards (Simple) they had power to doe hurt, but not a will to doe it: a care they had more to prouide for them-selues, then to iniurie others. If this siluerthred of mans life had still bene spun, man had liued in a reasonable happines, But the Fates (enuious euer of his good) cut [Page] it off: and at the last, instead of this siluer maske which the world wore,The Brazen age. did she (being turnd strumpet) put on a Brazen-face. Hauing that on, she grew impudent lasciuious and lustfull, yet was she not altogether past modestie, but fell into the company of Vices, and so at length into a loue of them, beeing rather deceiued with the goodly shapes they carryed, then delighted with their dooings.

This was the lustie age of the world, when men knewe their strengthes, and had desire to trie them: their veines were full of blood and itched to be let out: but warre was not yet begotten, and as in a ciuill kingdome▪ when Sedition is deuising plots how to set the state in an vprore, shee looketh wildely, walkes distractedly, and speakes ambiguouslie: her verie face seruing as a Calender, wherein men may reade what stormes shall followe, the time when they shal fall, or how, or where, is not set down. So at this brazen & third roūd table of the world (who in her bosom was hatching vs countries) did men sit with countenances, wherein were ingrauen the pictures of troubled thoughts, which tolde that mischiefes were apt to breede there, though to be borne in another Age. The windes did now but begin to shake the earth: the shipwracke which it should suffer, was to be afterwards: so long therfore as the world rested vpon this brazen pillar, men did but whet their swords: there was an Yron gate to be opened, at which Warre should yssue [...]oorth, and then was the time to strike.

Quickly there [...]ore was this circle of Brasse broken in peeces,The Yron age the glasse of this Third age was soone runne out, and in the place of it was the Yron age turnd vp, the Yron age is that wherin we liue: it is the olde age of the world that must bring the world to a graue: it is the last of foure, and the worst of foure: it is the ba [...]est, yet the prowdest. In this Yron bed of Tyme what vnnaturall ingenderings, what preposterous birthes haue there bene? Deuotion hath lyen with Hipocrisie, Zeale with Coldnesse, [...]ustice with Par [...]ialitie, Valor with Furie, Learning with Pride, Pride with Ambition, Ambition with Treason, and Treason with Murder.

In this bed was Auarice borne, monstrous in shape, and diuelish in conditions: her fingars are hookes, which Usurers still are [Page] fyling to keepe more sharpe then Taylors needles. In one hād shee holdes a lime-bush, in the other a net, a company of olde rednosd fellowes (of all trades some) spredding Birdlime continually vpon the one, and with strōg Cordes still peecing vp the other. She whispers euerie morning in a Lawyeres eare, what shee saies none knowes, but some thinke shee teaches him his prayers: she goes attired like a Brokers wife, for her apparell is made of seuerall parcells, which by violence she hath torne frō sundrie backes: Shee féedes vppon golde as the Estredge dooth vppon Iron, and drinks siluer faster downe her crane-like throat than an English Cockatrice doth Hipocras.

With this ill-fauoured hag came enuie into the worlde: they both are twins, and both looke like Staruelings: in bodies they somewhat resemble one another, but differ in mindes, for the one couets to haue all to herselfe, the other cares for nothing: but pines away to the bare bones, with very griefe and madnesse, to see another inioy any thing.

The last of these two furies (Enuie) was begotten by a player, & that makes her so lean: the other by a Dutch Burger, and that makes her haue such a belly. Now was the time (whilst this Yron-milles of mischiefe were going) for warre to set at the Anuile, whilst swords, Billes, Pole-axes, Partizans, Guns &c. were forged to destroy mankinde: for till this rustie Iron world came vp, there was not an Armorer to be had for loue or money. Presently vpon this, priuate quarels were first pickt, which afterwards burst out into open maine battailes, those battailes haus drawne whole kingdomes into faction, and those factions like so many fyres, haue set the whole world in a combustion, but because Nations were so deuided one from another by the Seas (which lay like barres betweene them) Couetousnes and Ambition laide their handes together, and inuented shippes:

Now was the Reuerend Oake (the King of the Forrest) who had stood so many yeares vnshaken and vndishonoured, laide groueling on the ground: the mountaines that before were glad to be his foot-stooles, and were euen proud when hee stood vpright on their backes, did now send foorth groanes at the report of his fall.

His Oaken browes must notwithstanding bee vncrownd: [Page] his aged body dismantled of his roabes, yea his very heart cleft spitefully in sunder, whilst his strong and tough ribs be puld from his sides, to make a Pageam that shall dance on the Waters.

And not the O [...]ke alone felt the misery of these great stroaks, but the tal Firrhe Tree was compeld likewise to leaue the woo [...]s, where proudly he had stood so many yeares, and like a Slaue to followe a Saile, which w [...]y soeuer it should lead him. With these woodden Castles (which [...]loated vp and downe like so many Townes, or rather like so many little Citties full of People) was the Kingdome of the Waues bes [...]eged, her Christal Walles batterd, and her treasury rif [...]ed: The scaly Citizens being terrif [...]ed with this boldnes of mankinde, as hauing neuer seene any creatures but themselues to venture into their dominions, complayned to the mona [...]ch of the Deeps, who in reuenge of this presumption, did not onely sticke Rockes in the playnest paths of his Kingdome, to make those inuadors stumble at them and so to fall headlong into Hell, But also consulted and conspired with the Windes▪ to be euer working their ouerthrow.

Neither was the Earth (which neuer before felt bruises) free from the blowes and wounds euen of tho [...]e to whome she gaue nourishment.

The World being all turnd thus to Yron, mens hearts were made of the same mettall, and like vnnaturall children misusde the Mother of vs all, mangling her bosome, cutting open her veines, and ripping vp her very bowels, compelling her not onely to giue them common foode to sustaine them, and fruits and flowers to satisfie their lust and pleas [...]res, But thinking that the Golden and siluer worldes were hid in her e [...]trals, euen amongst those do they barbarously rake to finde riches: For this cause the Earth that at the beginning was vnto vs as a Mother, shewes herselfe now as a stepd [...]me, her bre [...]s out o [...] which flowed (once) nothing but milk and hony to nourish vs, swelleth now with rank poyson to destroy vs.

But (alas) these moales are but small warts on the cheekes of this Yron World, the great blemishes that make it seeme vgly are not yet discouered.

Entring ther [...]ore into a con [...]emplation of y• changes of Time, [Page] how all things that are vnder the Moone are as variable as her lookes are: how Goodnes growes crooked, and hath almost lost her shape: how Vertue goes poorely and is not regarded: how Villany [...]ettes in silks, and like a God adorde: And when I consider how al y• pleasures of this life are but as Childrēs dreames, how all the glories of the world are but artificiall fire-works that keepe a blazing for a time, and yet dye in stinking smoakes and how all the labours of man are like the toyling of the windes, which striue to cast vp heaps of dust, that in the end are not worth the gathering. Then euen then do I grow weary of my selfe▪ then am I neither in loue with the beautie of the Sunne, neither stand I gazing at the [...]auncing of the starres: I neither wonder at the [...] measures of the cloudes, the nimb [...]é galliards of the Water, [...] the wanton trippings of the winde [...] delighted when the earth dresses vp her h [...]ad with flowers, I wish my selfe a Bea [...]t, because men are so bad that Beastes do excell them in goodnes, & abhor all company, because the best is but tedious, the worser loathsome, both are the destroyers of time, and both must be maintained with cost.

Since then, that in the Noblest streames there are such Whirlepooles to swallow vs vp, such rockes that threaten daunger (if not Ship-wracke,) and such Q [...]icke-s [...]nds to make vs sinke: who would not willingly take downe all the sailes of his ambition, and cast anchor on a safe and retired shore,The praise of the countrie l [...]e. which is to be found in no place, if not in the Country: O blessed li [...]e I patterne of that which our first Parents ledde, the state of Kinges (now) being but a sla [...]erie to that of theirs.

O schoole of contemplation! O thou picture of the whole world. drawn in a little compasse! O thou Prospectiue glasse, in whome we may behold vpon earth, all the frame and wonders of heauen [...] Now happy ( [...] thrice happy) is he that not playing with his winges in the Golden flames of the Court, nor setting his foote into the busie throngs of the Cittie, nor [...]unning vp and downe in the intricate mazes of the Law, can be content in the winter [...]o sit by a country fier, and in the sommer to lay his head on the greene pillowes of the earth, where his sleepe shall be soft slumbers, [Page] and his wakings pleasant as golden dreames. Hast thou a desire to rule, get vp to the mountaines, and thou shalt see the greatest trees stand trembling before thee to doe thee reuerence, those maist thou call thy Nobles: thou shalt haue ranckes of Oakes on each side of thee, which thou maist call thy Guard: thou shalt see willowes bending at euerie blast, whome thou maiest cal thy flatterers: thou shalt see vallies humbled at thy feete, whome thou maiest tearme thy slaues. Wouldst thou beholde battailes? step into the fieldes, there shalt thou see excellent combats betweene the standing Corne and the Windes. Art thou a tyrant and delightest in the fall of Great ones? muster then thy haruesters together, and downe with those proud Summer Lordes, when they are at the highest. Wouldst thou haue Subsidies paid thee? the Plow sends thee in Corne, the M [...]dow giues thee her pasture, the Trees pay custome with their fruit, the Oxe bestowes vpon thée his labour, the Shéep his wooll. Dost thou call for musick? No prince in the world keepes more skilful mus [...]tians: the Birds are thy consort, and the wind instruments they play vpon, yeeld ten thousand tunes. Art thou addicted to studdie, Heauen is thy Lybrarie, the Sunne, Moone and Stars are thy Bookes, and teach thee Astronomy: By obseruing them, thou makest Almanackes to thy self, that serue for all seasons. That great Uolumne is thine Ephem [...]ides, out of which thou maist calculate the predictions of times to f [...]llowe: yea, in the verie clowds are written lessons of Diuinitie for thée, to instruct thee in wisdome: the turning ouer their leaues, teach thée the variations of seasons, and how to dispose thy businesse for all weathers. If the practise of Phisicke delight thee what Aphorismes can all the Doctours in the world set downe more certaine? what rules for good dyet can they draw out more singuler? what medicines for health can they compound more restoratiue? what vertues can all their extracted Quintessens [...]s instil into our bodies more soueraign, than those which the earth of her owne bountie bestowes for our preseruation, and whose working powers are dayly experimented in beastes for our example? O you plants of the fields, and you flowers of the garden (natur [...]s Apothecaries, & Earths Chirurgians!) your stalkes [Page] are slender, yet you your selues are the chiefest pillars that vphold mans life: what clearnes doth the sight receiue onely in beholding you? what comfort does the Sence of smelling finde onely in your Sauors? and how many that haue had halfe their bodies in their graues, haue bene brought backe againe onely by your sacred I [...]ces? Who therefore would not consume his youth in the company of these creatures, that haue power in them to keep off olde age longer then it would, or when old age doth come, are able to giue it the liuelihood and vigour of youth? who would not rather sit at the foote of a hill tending a flock of sheepe, then at the heline of Authoritie controuling the stubborn and vnruly multitude? Better [...] it is in the solitarie woods, and in the wilde fieldes, to be a man among beastes then in the midest of a people [...] Citie, to be a beast among men. In the homely village art thou more safe, then in a fortified Castel: the stings of Enuy, or the Bullets of Treason, are neuer shot through those thin walles: Sound healths are drunke out of the wholsome woodden dish, when the cup of golde boyles ouer with poyson. The countrie cottage is neither battred downe with Cannon in time of warre, nor pestred with clamorous suits in time of peace. The fall of Cedars that tumble from the tops of Kingdomes, the Ruine of great houses, that bury families in their ouerthrowe, and the noise of Shipwracks, that beget euen shrikes in the hearts of Citties, neuer send their terrors thither: that place stands as safe from the shocke of such violent stormes, as the Baytree does from lightning.

The admiration of these bewties made me so enamoured, and so really in loue with the inheritor of them, that the flames of my affection were (in their burning) onely carried thither. So that in stead of paued streetes, I trod the vnbeaten pathes of the fields, the rankes of the trees were to me as great buildings, Lambes and skipping Kids, were as my merry companions, the cleare fountaine as my cups of wine, rootes and hearbes as the table of an Ordinarie, the Dialogues of birds as the Sceanes of a play, and the open emptie medowes as the proud and populous Cittie. Thus did I wish to liue, thus to dye: and h [...]uing wandred long (like a Timonist) hating men because they [Page] dishonoured their creation. At length fortune led me by the hand into a place so curiou [...]lie built by nature, as if it had beene the Pallace where shee purposed none should lie but her selfe: It was a Groue set thicke with Trees, which grew in such order, that they made a perfect circle, insomuch that I [...] in feare, it was kept by Fayries, and that I was brought into it by e [...] chantment. The branches of the Trees (like so many [...]handes) reached ouer one to another and in their embracements held so fast together, that their boughes made a goodly greene roo [...]e, which being touched by the winde, it was [...] to beh [...]ld so large a see [...]ing to mooue: vpon euerie branch sat a consort of singers, so that euerie Tree shewed like a Musick room. The floore of this summer-house was pa [...]ed al ouer with yelow-field [...]lowers, and with white and red dazies, vpon which the [...] casting but a wanton eye, you would haue sworne the one had bene nailes of Golde, the other studdes of enamel [...]ed S [...]uer. Amazed I was when I did but looke into this little Paradice, and afraid to enter, doubting whether it were some hallowed ground or no, for I could finde no path that dyrected me to it: neither the foot of any man, nor the hoofe of any beast had beaten down the Grasse: for the blades of it stood so hie and so euen, as if their lengthes had beene giuen them by one measure. The melodye which the birds made, and the varieties of all sorts of fruites which the trees promised, with the prettie and harmelesse murmuring of a shallow streame, running in windings through the middest of it (whose noise went like a chime of Bels, charming the eyes to sléepe) put me in minde of that Garden whereof our great Grandsire was the kéeper, I e [...]en wept for sorrow to think he should be so soolish, as to be driuen from a place of such happines, & blamed him in my mind for leauing such a president behind him because by his fall wée lost his felicitie, and by his frailtie all men are now apt to vndoe themselues and their posterity throgh the inticements of women.

Into this Gro [...]e therefore at last I did venter, resoluing [...]o make it the Temple where my thoughts shold spend themselues i [...] fruitefull contemplati [...]n: I purposed to deuide the day into acts, as if the ground had beene a stage, and that the life [Page] which there I ment to leade, should haue bene but as a play. Some of my houres should haue runne out in Speculation of the admirall workemanshippe of Heauen and of the orders which the Celestiall bodies are gouerned by: Some of my houres should haue carried me vp and downe the earth, and haue shewen vnto me the qualities and proportions of the creatures that breede vpon it: at another time would I haue written Satyres against the imp [...]etie of the world: At another I would haue chaunted Roundelayes, in honour of the Countrie life. The rest of my time should haue fetched in prouision for my bodie. These were appointed to be my Actes in this goodly The [...] ter: the Musicke betw [...]ene were the Singers of the Wood, the audience such as Orphe [...]s plaide vnto, and those were Mountaines and Trees who (vnlesse the whispering windes troubled them with their noise) would haue beene v [...]ris attentiue. But whilst I setting foorth to runne this Goale, beholde, [...]asting vp mine eye, I espyed a farre off certaine cloudes of smoake▪ whose vapors ascended vp so blacke and thicke into the Element, as if the sighes of hell had burst the bowels of the earth, and were flying vp toward heauen, to pull downe more vengeance.

Before I saw this, I belee [...]ed that this place had beene fr [...]e from all resort, desirous therefore to learne who they were that neighboured so nie and in a solitari [...] wood, (that stood so far from inhabited buildings) I stept forward & came to the place which (what by nature and what by Art) was so fenced about with Trees, quick set hedges and bushes, which were growne so high (that but for the sm [...]ak) it was not possible to imagin how a house could there be builded, there was but o [...]path leading to it, which (after much searching & many turnings) being foūd, boldly we [...] I on, & arriued at a homely Cottage: the verie doore of it put me in minde of that poore [...] of good Ba [...]cis & Philaemon, where a God was a guest▪ for it was so lowe, that euen a dwarf might haue seemed a tall man, entring into it, so much would it haue made him s [...]oope. This house stood not like Great mens places, alwaies shut, but wide open, as if bounty had beene the porter, & being within, it [...] Hospitality dwelt there, and had [Page] giuen you welcome. For there was a Table ready couered, with faire linnen, nut-browne round trenchers lay in good order, with bread and salt, keeping their state in the middle of the board. The roome it selfe was not sumptuous but hansome, of indifferent bignes, but not very large: the windowes were spread with hearbs, the chimney drest vp with greene boughes, and the floore strewed with bulrushes, as if some lasse were that morne to be married: but neither saw I any bride or bride-groome, nor heard I any musicke, onely the next roome (which was the kitchen, and into which I went) was there as much stirring, as commonly is to be seene in a Booth, vppon the first day of the opening of a Faire. Some sate turning of spits, and the place being all smoaky, made me thinke on hell, for the ioynts of meat lay as if they had bene broyling in the infernall fier: the turne [...]spits (who were poore tott [...]red greasie fellowes) looking like so many heedeuills, Some were basting and seemed like fiends powring scalding oyle vppon the damned: others were myncing of pyemeat, and shewed like hangmen cutting vp of quarters, whilst another whose eies glowed with the heat of the fier, stood poaking in at the mouth of an Ouen, torturing soules as it were in the [...]urnace of Lucifer. There was such chopping of hearbes, such tossing of Ladles, such plucking of Geese, such scalding of Pigges, such singing, such scolding, such laughing, such swearing, and such running too and fro, as if Pluto had that day bidden all his friendes to a feast▪ and that these had bene the Cookes that drest the dinner.

At the last espying an old nimble-tongd beldam who seemed to haue the commaund of the place, to her I stepped, and in faire tearmes requested to know the name of the dwelling, why this great cheere was prouided, and who were the Guests, for as yet I saw no bodie but this Baud of the Blacke Guard. Instead of her tongue, her eies (that had started backe a good way into her head, as if they durst not looke out) made me an answere. I perceiued by her verie countenance, that I was not welcome, which afterward she confirmed in words, telling me the place was not for mée, the Feast was for others, and that I must instantly bée gone, for that a strange kinde of people were that day to bee [Page] merry there. No Rhethoricke that I could vse, had power to win her to discouer who these Guests should be, till at the length a Bribe preuailing more then a Parlee, she tolde me I should be a Spectator of the Comedy in hand, and in a priuate gallerie beholde all the Actors, vppon condition I would sit quietly and say nothing. And for that purpose was I conuaied into an vpper loft, where (vnseene) I might (through a woodden Latice that had the prospect of the dining roome) both see and here all that was to be done or spoken.

There lay I like a Scoute to discouer the comming of the expected enimie, who was to set vppon this good chear [...], and to batter downe the walles of hot Pies and Pasties. Mine eies euen aked with staring towardes the doore, to spie when these states shold enter, ducking downe with their heads like so many Geese going into a Barne. At length (with bagge and baggage) they came dropping in one after another, sometimes thrée in a company, sometimes fiue, now more, now lesse, till in the end the great Hall was so full that it swarmed with them. I know you wonder, and haue longing thoughts to know what Generation this is, that liued in this hospitable familiarity: but let me tel you they are a people for whom the world cares not, neither care they for the world: they are all freemen, yet scorne to liue in Cities: great trauellers they are and yet neuer from home, poore they are, and yet haue their dyet from the best mens tables: They are neyther olde Seruingmen (for all I say they are poore) that haue bene courtiers, and are now past carrying of cloakebags: nor yong gallants that haue serued in the low Countries, (albeit many of them go vppon wodden legs) nor hungry schollers, that all their life time haue kept a wrangling in the schooles, and in the end are glad to teach Children their Horne-bookes: neither are they decayed Poets, whose wits like a fooles Land, holde out but a twelue month, and then they liue ppon the scraps of other mens inuention: no nor players they be, who out of an ambition to weare the best Ierkin (in a Strow [...]ing company) or to act great partes, forsake the stately and our more then Romaine Cittie stages, to trauell vpon the hard hoofe, from village to village for cheese and butter-milk: neither are they any of those terrible noises (with thrid bare cloakes) that liue by red lattises and Iuy-bushes, hauing authoritie to thrust into any mans [Page] roome, onely speaking but this, Will you haue any musique? Neither are they Cittizens that haue bene blowne vp (without Gunpowder) and by that meanes haue bene free of the Grate at Ludgate, some fiue times: no, no, this is a Ging of goodfellowes in whome there is more brother-hood: this is a Crew that is not the Damned Crew (for they walke in Sattin) but this is the Ragged Regiment: Uillaines they are by birth, Varlets by education, Knaues by profession, Beg gars by the stattute and Rogues by act of Parliament. They are the idle drones of a Countrie, the Caterpillers of a common wealth, and the Aegiptian lice of a Kingdome. And albeit that at othertimes their attire was sitting to their trade of liuing, yet now were they all in hansome cleane linnen, because this was one of their Quarter dinners: for you must vnderstand, that (as afterward I learnt by intelligence) they holde these solemne meetings in foure seuerall seasons of the yeare at least, and in seuerall places to auoyde discouerie.

The whole assembly being thus gathered togither, One amongst the rest, who tooke vppon him a Seniority ouer the rest, charg [...]d euery man to answere to his name, to see if the Iury were full: the Bill by which he meant to call them being a double Iug of ale (that had the spirit of Aqua vitae in it, it smelt so strōg) and that he held in his hand: Another standing by with a toast, Nutmeg and Ginger, ready to crie Vous auez as they were cald, and all that were in the roome hauing single pots by the eares which like Pistolls were charged to go off so soone as euer they heard their names. This Ceremony being set abroach, an O-yes was made: But he that was Rector Chory (the Captain of the Tatterdemalions) spying one to march vnder his cullors, that had neuer before serued in those lowsie warres, pawsed awhile (after he had taken his first draught, to taste the dexteritie of the liquor) and then began (Iustice like) to examine this Yonger Brother vppon Interrogatories?

The first question he demaunded, was, if he were stalled to the Rogue or no? the poore H [...]ngarin answered yes, he was: then was he asked by whom he was stalled, and where, and in what manner of complement it was done? to which question the nouice hauing not so much beggerly knowledge as might make a learned reply, forthwith did the wicked Elder o [...]maund the young Slauonians that stood about him, to [...] him that [Page] was so vnskilfull in the Rudiments of Rogerie) of his best garment, and to carry it presently to the Bows [...]ng Ken (that was to say to the tap-house) and there to pawn it for so much strong Ale, as could be ventur'd vppon it. Thus the cheife Rag [...]a-muffen gaue in charge, the rest obayed and did so, whilst the other suffered himselfe to be stript, and durst not resist their base authority.

This done, the Grand Signior called for a Gage of Bowse, which belike signified a quart of drink, for presently a pot of Ale being put into his hand, he made the young Squier knéele downe, and powring the full pot on his pate, vttered these wordes.

I doe stall thee to the Rogue, by vertue of this soueraigne English liquor, so that hence forth it shall be lawfull for thee to Cant (that is to say) to be a Vagabond and beg, and to speake that pedlers French, or that Canting language, which is to be found among none but beggers: with that, the stalled Gentleman rose, all the rest in the roome hanging vppon him for ioy, like so many dogs about a Beare, and leaping about him with shoutes like so many mad men.

But a Scilence being proclaimed, all were hushed, whilst Hee that playde the Maister Deuills part amongst these Hellhounds, after a shrug or two giuen, thus began to speake to him that was new entred into the damned f [...]aterniti [...]. Brother Begger (quoth he) because thou art yet but a meere freshman in our Colledge, I charge thee to hang thine eares to my lips, and to learne the orders of our house, which thou must obserue, vpon paine either to be beaten with our cudgels the next time thou art met, or else to be stript out of any garments that are worth the taking from thee. First therefore (being no better then a plaine ordinarie Rogue, marry in time thou maiest rise to more preferment amongst vs) thou art not to wander vp and downe all countries, but to walke onely like an Vnderkeeper of a Forrest, in that quarter which is allotted vnto thee: Thou art likewise to giue way vnto any of vs that haue borne all the offices of the Wallet before thee, and vppon holding vp a finger to auoide any towne or countrie Uillage, where thou [...] wee are forraging to victuall our armye that ma [...]ch along with vs. For (my poore Villiaco) thou must know, that there are degrees of Superioritie and Inferioritie in our Societie, as there [Page] are in the proudest cōpany. We haue amongst vs some eighteene or nineteene seuerall offices for men, and about seauen or eight for women: The cheefest of vs are called Vpright-men (O my deere Sun-burnt-brother, if all those that are the Cheifest men in other companies were Vpright-men too, what good dealing would there be in all occupations? The next are Rufflers: then haue we Anglers, but they sildome catch Fish till they go vp westward for Flounders: then are there Rogues (which liuerie thou thy selfe wearest) next are wilde Rogues, then Priggers, then Palliards, then Fraters, then Tome of Bedlams band of mad caps, otherwise called Poore Toms flocke of Wildegeese (whom heere thou seest by his black and blew naked arms to be a man beaten to the world) and those wilde geese or hairebraines are called Abraham-men: in the next squadron march our braue Whip-iacks, at the taile of them come crawling our counterfeit Crankes: in another troop are Gabling Domerers then Curtals follow at their heeles, and they bring along with them strange Enginers, called Iri [...]h-toyles: After whome followe the Swigmen, the Iarkmen, the Patricoes, and last the Kinchincoes. These are the totterd Regiments, that make vp our maine armie. The victuallers to the Campe are women, and of those some are Glymerers, some Bawdy-baskets, some Autem-morts: others Walking-Morts: some Doxies, lothers are Dels, the last and least are called Kinchin-morts, with all which Comrades, thou shalt in thy beggerly perregrination, meete, conuerse, and be drunke, and in a short time knowe their natures and roguish conditions without the helpe of a Tutor. At these words the victualls came smoaking into the hall to be set vppon the boord, whereupon the whole swarme squatted downe, being as vnciuill in manners. as vnhansome in apparell, onely the Vhrightmen and Rufflers had the graine of the board giuen them, and sat at vpper end of the table: the rest took ther trenchers as they happened into their hands, yet so, that euery knaue had his quean close by his side.

The table being thus furnished both with Guests and meat [...], instead of Grace, euery one drew out a knife, rapt out a round oath, and cried Proface you mad Rogues, and so fell to. They fed more hungerly, then if they had come from the seege of Ierusalem: not a word was heard amongst them for a long time, [Page] onely their teeth made a noyse, as if so many Mils had bene grinding. Rats going to the assault of a Holland cheese could not more valiantly lay about them: nay my Lord Maiors Hounds at the dog-house being bidden to the funerall banquet of a dead horse, could not picke the bones cleaner. At length when the platters began to looke leane, and their bellies grew plumpe, then went their tongues: But such a noyse made they, such a confusion was there of beggerly tales, some gabling in their Canting language, others in their owne, that the scoulding at ten conduits, and the gossipping of fifteene bake-houses was delicate musicke to it. At the length, drunken healths reeled vp and downe the table, and then it would haue made a Phisitian himselfe s [...]cke, but to haue looked vppon the waters that came from them. The whole roome shewed a farre off (but that there was heard such a noise) like a dutch peece of Drollery, for they sate at table as if they had bene so many Antickes: A Painters prentice could not draw worse faces then they themselues made, besides those which God gaue them: no, nor a Painter himselfe varie a Picture into more strange and more ill-fauourd Gestures, than were to bee seene in the action of their bodies: for some did nothing but weepe and protest loue to their Morts, another swore daggers and kniues to cut the throate of his Doxye, if he found her tripping: Some slept being drowned so deepe in Ale-drags, that they slauered againe: others sung bawdie songs, another crew deuised curses vppon Iustices of Peace, Head-boroughs and Constables, grinning their teeth so hard together for anger, that the grating of a saw in a stone-cutters yard, when it files in sunder the ribs of marble, makes not a more horrible noyse, In y• end, one who tooke vppon him to be speaker to the whole house (bidding the French and English pox on their yelping throates) cried out for silence, telling them it was his turne (according to the Customes of their meeting) to make an Oration in praise of Beggerie, & of those that professe the trade: Héereupon (as i [...] an Owle had happened amongst so many birds) all their eyes did presently stare vppon him: who thus began.

My noble hearts, olde weather-beaten fellowes, and braue English Spirits, I am to giue you that which all the land knowes you iustly deserue (a Roguish commendation) and you shall haue it, I am to giue Beggars their due praise, [Page] yet what neede I doe that, sithence no man (I think) will take any thing from them that is their due. To be a Begger is to bée a Braue man, because tis now in fashion for verie braue men to Beg: but what a Rogue am I to build vp your honours vpon examples? Doe wée not all come into the world like arrant Beggers, without a rag vpon vs? doe wée not all goe out of the world like Beggers, sauing onely an olde sheete to couer vs? and shall we not walke vp and downe in the world like Beggers, with olde blankets pind about vs? yes, yes, wee will, roared al the Kennell as though it had beene the Dogs of Paris Garden: Peace cries the Penilesse Orator, and with a Hem proceedes.

What though there bee Statutes to burne vs ith eares for Rogues? to [...]indge vs ith hand for Pilferers? to whip vs at post [...] for being Beggers, and to shackle our heeles ith Stockes for being idle Uagabonds? what of this? Are there no other Statutes more sharpe then these to punish the rest of the Subiects, that scorne to bee our companions? what though a prating constable or a red nosde Beadle say to one of vs, sirra Goodman Rogue, if I serud you wel I should sée you whipped through the Towne: Alas, alas, silly Animalles, if all men should haue that which they deserue, wee should doe nothing but play the executioners and tormenters one of an other.

A number of Taylors would be damnd for keeping a Hel vnder their Shop bord: all the Brokers would make thier Willes at Tyborne, if the searching for stolne goods which they haue receiued, should like a plague but once come amongst them: yea if all were serued in their right kinde, two partes of the land should bee whipped at Bridewell for letcherie, and three parts (at least) be set ith stockes for drunkennes. The life of a Begger is the life of a Souldier: he suffers hunger and colde in winter, and heate and thirst in summer he goes lowūe, he goes lame, hee's not rega [...]ded, hee's not rewarded: heere onely shines his glorie, The whole kingdome is but his walke, a whole cittie is but his parish in euerie mans kitchin is his meate drest, in euery mans seller lyes his Beere, and the best mens pursses keepe a penye for him to spend.

Since then the profession is ancient (as hauing beene from the beginning) and so generall, that all sortes of people make it their last refuge: Since a number of Artificers maintaine their [Page] houses by it, Since we and many a thousand more liue merrilie with it, let vs my bra [...]e Tawny-faces, not giue vp our patched cloaks, nor chāge our coppies, but as we came beggers out of our mothers belties, so resolue and set vp your staues vppon this, to returne like beggers into the bowels of the earth. Dixi.

Scarce was the word Dixi belch'd out of his rotten Alylnnges, but all the Bench-whistlers from one end to the other, gaue a ringing Plaudite to the Epilogue of his speech, in s [...]nge of approbation: wherupon they rose vp as confusedly as they sat down, & hauing paid so farre as their purses would stretch for what they had deuoured, making Oes in chalke for the rest when they met there next, and euerie man with his Mor [...] being assigned to their quarter, with order giuen, at what following Faires to shake hands, and what Ale-bush to tipple, with Items like wise giuen where, to strike downe Geese, where to steale Hens, and from what hedges to fetch sheetes, that may serue as pawnes, away they departed.

Turba Grauis paci, placidae (que) inimica Quieti.

No sooner were their backes turned, but I that all this while had stood in a corner (like a watching Candle) to see all their vilanies, appeared in my likenes; and finding the Coast to bee perfectly cleere, none remaining in the house but the Hostesse to these Guestes, her did I summon to a second parlee. The spirit of her owne mault walk [...] in her brain-pan, so that what with the sweetenesse of gaines which shee had gotten by her merchāt Uenturers, and what with the fumes of drinke, which (like a lustie gale to a wind-mill) set her tongue in going, I found her apt for talke, and taking holde of this opportunitie, after some intreatie to discouer to mee what these Vpright-men, Rufflers and the rest were, with their seuerall quallities and manners of life. Thus she began.

An Vpright-man.

YOu shall vnderstand then (quoth she) that the chiefest of those that were my Table-men to day, are called Vprightmen, whose Picture I will drawe to the life before you: An Vpright-man is a sturdie Big-bonde Knaue, that neuer [Page] walkes but (like a comaunder) with a short trunche [...]n in his hand, which he cals his Filchman. At markets, Faires, & other méetings, his voyce among Beggars is of the same sound that a Constables is of: it is not to be contrould, He is free of all the shires in England, but neuer stayes in any place long, the reason is, his profession is to be idle, which being looked into, he knowes is punishable, and therefore to auoid the whip he wanders. If he come to a Farmers doore, the almes he begges is neither meat nor drinke, but onely money: if any thing else be offered to him, he takes it with disdaine and laies it vnder a hedge for any that comes next: but in reuenge of this, if he spie any geese, hennes, duckes, or such like walking spirrits haunting the house, with them he coniures about midnight, vsing them the next morning like traytors, either behedding them or quartering them in pieces: for which purpose, this band of Vpright-men sildome march without fiue or sixe in a company, so that country people rather giue them mony for feare then out of any deuotion. After this bloudy massacre of the poore innocent pullen, the Actors in their bloody Tragedie, repaire to their Stalling-kennes, and those are tipling houses, which will lend money vppon any stollen goods, and vnto which none but such guests as these resort: there the spits goe round, and the cannes walke vp and downe: there haue they their Morts and their Doxies, with whom (after they haue Bowsed profoundly) they lye (in stead of Featherbeds vppon litters of cleane st [...]aw) to encrease the Generations of Rogues and Beggers: For these vpright men stand so much vppon their reputation, that they scorne any Mor [...] or Doxie should be séene to walke with them; and indeede what need they care for them, when he may commaund any Doxie to leaue another man and to lye with him; the other not daring to murmure against it. An vpright man will seldome complaine of want, for whatsoeuer any one of his profession doth steale, he may challenge a share in it, yea and may commaund any inferiour Rogue to fetch in booty to serue his turne. These carry the shapes of soldiers, and can talke of the Low-Countries, though they neuer were beyond Douer.

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A Ruffler.

THe next in degrée to him is cal'd a Ruffler: the Ruffler and the Vp-right-man are so like in cōidtions, that you would sweare them Brothers: they walke with cudgels alike, they professe armes alike, though they be both out at elboowes, and will sweare they lost their limbes in their Countries quarrell, when either they are lame by diseases, or haue bene mangled in some drunken quarrell: These commonly are fellowes that haue stood aloofe in the warres, and whilst others fought, they tooke their heeles and ran away from their Captaine, or else they haue bene Ser [...]ingmen, whome for their behauiour, no man would trust with a liuery: if they cannot spend their daies to their mindes by their own begging or robbing of Countrie people that come late from Markets (for vppon those they most vsually excersise their trade) then do they compell the inferior subiects of their common wealth (as Rogues, Palliards, Morts, Doxies &c) to pay tribute vnto them. A Ruffler after a yeare or two takes state vpon him, and becomes an Vpright-man (but no honest man.)

An Angler.

AN Angler is a limb of an Vpright-man, as being deriued from him: their apparell in which they walke is commonly freize Ierkins and gally flops: in the day time they Beg from house to house, not so much for releefe, as to spye what lyes fit for their ne ts, which in the night following they fish for. The Rod they angle with, is a staffe of fiue or sixe foote in length, in which within one inch of the top is a little hol [...] boared quite through, into which hole they put an yron hooke, and with the same do they angle at windowes about midnight: the draught they pluck vp, being apparel, shéets, couerlets, or whatsoeuer their yron hookes can lay hould of: which prize when they haue gotten, they do not presently make sale of it, but after foure or fiue daies, or according as they suspect inquirie will be made after it, do they bring such goods to a Broaker (traded vp for the purpose) who lends vppon them [Page] halfe so much money as they be worth, which notwithstanding serues the Angler a while for spending money, and enritehes him that buyes it for a long time after.

A Rogue.

A Rogue is knowne to all men by his name, but not to all men by his conditions: no Puritane can dissemble more then hee, for he will speake in a lamentable tune, and crawle along the streetes, (supporting his bodye by a staffe) as if there were not life enough in him to put strength into his legs: his head shall be bound about with linnen, loathsome to beholde, and as filthie in colour as the compl [...]xion of his face: his apparrell is all tattered, his bosome naked, and moste commonly no shirt on: not that they are driuen to this miserie by meere want, but that if they had better cloathes giuen them, they would rather sell them to some of their owne fraternitie then weare them, and wa [...]der vp and downe in that pitteous maner, onely to moue people to compassion, and to be relieued with money, which being gotten, at night is spent as merily and as lewdely, as in the day it was [...]onne by coūterfeit villany. Another sect there be of these, and they are called Sturdy Rogues: these walke from country to country vnder [...]ol [...]ur of trauelling to their friendes, or to finde out some kinsman, or else to deliuer some letter to one Gentleman or other, whose name he will haue fairely endorsed on paper, folded vp for that purpose, and hansomely sealed: others vse this shift, to carrie a certificate or pasport about them, with the hand and seale of some Iustice to it, giuing notice how he hath bin whipped for a Uacabond, according to the lawes of the Realme, and that he is now to returne to such a place where he was borne, or dwelt last, by a certain day limited, which is sure to be set down long enough, for all these writings are but counter [...]eit, they hauing amonst them (of their owne Rancke)▪ that can write and reade, who are their Secretaries in this businesse. These fellowes haue fingers as nimble as the Vpright-man, and haue their Wenches and meeting places, where whatsoeuer they get, they spend, and whatsoeuer they spend is to satisfie their lust: some of this [...]roode are called Curtalls, because they [Page] weare short Cloakes: their company is dangerous, their liues detestable, and their ends miserable.

A wilde Rogue.

THe Tame Rogue begets a Wilde Rogue, and this is a spirit that cares not in what circle he rises, nor into the company of what Diuels he falles: In his swadling clouts is he marked to be a villaine, and in his breeding is instructed to bee so: The mother of him (who was deliuered of her burden vnder a hedge,) either trauelling with him at her backe, or else leading him in her hand, and wil rather indure to see his braines beaten out, than to haue him taken from her, to be put to an honest course of life, So enuious they are & so much doe they scorne any professiō but their ownet: hey haue bene Rogues themselues and▪ disdaine that their Children should be otherwise. These Wilde-Rogues (like Wilde geese) keepe in flockes, and all the day loyter in the fieldes, (if the weather be warme) and at Brick-killes, or else disperse themselues in colde weather, to Rich-mens doores, and at night haue their méetings in barnes or other out-places, where (twentie or more in a company) they engender male and Female, euerie one catching her whome he doth best fancy, the stronger and more sturdie kéeping the weaker in subiection: their language is bawdy talk, damned othes, and plots where to filtch the next morning, which they perform betimes: rising as earely as the Sunne, and enioyning their punckes to looke out for cheates, to make their meeting at night the merrier.

A Prigger of Prancers.

A Prigger of Prancers is a horse-stealer, for to Prig, signifies in the Canting language to steale, & Prancer signifies a horse. These walke (in frieze or leather Ierkins) with a wand in their hands, watching in what pasture any horses are fit for their turne, and those within three or foure nights after are cō ueyd away at the least 60. miles from the place: if they meete the owners in their ground, they haue shifts to auoide his suspition by feyning they haue lost their way to such a Towne. [Page] These Hackney men that let out horses, will request seruice at Gentlemens houses, [...]heir skill being to keepe a Gelding wel, and if they get entertainment, they stand to their word, for they keepe the Gelding so well, that his Maister shall neuer finde fault with any disease he hath, vnlesse it be that he had the dizzinesse in his head, which made him reele out of his stable to be solde fortie miles off at a Fayre. These haue their female spies that suruey Medowes and Closes, and long onelye for horse [...]flesh.

A Palliard.

A Palliard comes next into my minde, & he likewise is cal'd a Clapperdugeon: his vpper Garment is an olde cloake made of as many peeces patchd together, as there bee villanies in him: this Palliard neuer goes without a Mort at his héeles whome he calles his wife. Being either in the streete of a Citie or in a Countrie village▪ they deuide themselues, and beg alms at seuerall doores, but whatsoeuer is gotten (be it bread, cheese, malt or wooll) they sell it to some Rogue or other, and with the money are merrie at a Bowsing Ken. A Palliard carries about him (for feare of the worst) a Certificate (vnder a Ministers hand, with the Parishes name, which shall bee sure to stand farre enough) where this Mort and he were married, when all is but forged: many Irishmen are of this lowsie Regiment, & some Welchmen: And the better either to draw pittie from men, as also to giue cullor to their lame wandring, with Sperewort or Arsenick will they in one night poyson their Leg, be it neuer so sound, and raise a blister, which at their pleasure they can take off againe.

A Frater.

A Frater is a brother of as damn'd a broode as the rest: his office is to trauell with a long wallet at his backe, and a blacke boxe at his girdle, wherein is a pattent to beg for some Hospitall or Spittle house: many of which pattens (especially if they be in paper or Parchment without the Great Seale) are counterfeit, And those that are not so, serue the bearers of them [Page] but as instruments to play the knaues by: for though they get neuer so much, the poore creatures for whome they beg, receiue little of it, they lie soaking with a Doxie in a tippling house, whilst the spittle wretches are ready to starue for sustenance at home: let countrie women returning from markets if they be alone, and in a dangerous place, take heede of these Proctors, for they haue the art to vnhorse them, and a conscience to send them packing without any penny in their purses.

A Quire-bird.

YOur Quire-birds are such as haue sung in such Cages as Newga [...]e, or a Countrie Gaole, and hauing their belles giuen them to flye, they seeke presently to build their nests vnder some honest mans roofe, not with intent to bring him in anye profit, but onely to put themselues into money or apparell (though it be by fitching) and then they take their flight.

An Abraham-man.

OF all the mad Rascalls (that are of this wing) the Abraham-man is the most fantasticke; The fellow (quoth this olde Lady of the Lake vnto mee) that sat halfe naked (at Table to day) from the Girdle vpward, is the best Abraham-man that euer came to my house, and the notablest villaine: he sweares hee hath beene in Bedlam, and will talke frantickly of purpose: you see pinnes [...]uck in sundrie places of his naked flesh, especially in his armes, which paine he gladly puts himselfe too (being indeed no torment at all, his skin is either so deade with some foule disease, or so hardned with weather: onely to make you beléeue hee is out of his wits,) he calles himselfe by the name of Poore Tom, and comming neere any body cries out Poore Tom is a colde. Of these Abraham-men, some bee excéeding merrie, and doe nothing but sing Songs, fashioned out of their owne braines, some will dance, others will doe nothing but either laugh or weepe, others are Dogged, and so sullen both in looke and speech that spying but a smal company in a house, they boldly and bluntly enter, compelling the seruants through feare to giue them what they demaund, which [Page] is commonly bacon, or something that will yeeld ready money. The Vpright-man, and the Rogue are not terribler enemies to pou [...]trie ware, then poore Tom is: neither does any man shift cleane linnen oftner then he does his wenches.

A Whipiack.

THen there is another sort of nimble fingred knaues, and they are called Whipiacks: who talke of nothing but fights at Sea, Piracies, drownings and shipwracks, trauelling both in the Shapes and names of Mariners, with a counter [...]eit Licence to beg from towne to towne, which licence they call a Gybe, and the Seales to it Iarkes. Their cullour of wandring from Shire to shire (especially along the Sea [...]oastes) is to harken after their Ship that was ouerthrowne, or for the marchandize stolen out of her, but the end of their land voyages is to rob Booths at faires, which they call heauing of the Booth▪ These Whipiacks will talke of the Indies, and of all countries that lye vnder heauen, but are indeed no more but freshwater Souldiers.

A counterfeit Crank.

BAser in habit, and more vile in condition then the Whipiacke, is the Counterfeit crancke: who in all kinde of weather going halfe naked, staring wildely with his eyes, and appearing distracted by his lookes, complayning onely that he is troubled with the falling sicknesse: Albeit you giue them cloaths they wil wear none, but rather wish those rags which they haue hanging about them should be made loathsome by myre, or their naked bosome and Armes to appeare full of bruses, and to be bloudy with falling, thereby to kindle in men the greater compassion: to cause that foaming in their mouthes (which is fearfull to beholde by the standers by) they haue this trick priuily to conuay a péece of white soape into one corner of their Iawes, which causeth the froth to come boyling forth. These Crancks haue likewise their meetings, and their wenches at commaund.

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A Dummerar.

EQuall to the Cranke in dissembling is the Dummerar, for as the other takes vppon him to haue the falling sickenesse, so this, counterfeits Dumbnes, but let him be whipped well, and his tongue (which he doubles in his mouth and so makes a horred and strange noyse instead of speech) will walke as fast as his handes doe, when he comes where any booty is.

A Iacke-man and a Patrico.

ANd because no common wealth can stand without some Learning in it. Therefore are there some in this Schoole of Beggers, that practise writing and reading, and those are called Iackmen: yea, the Iackman is so cunning sometimes that he can speake Latin: which learning of his liftes him vp to aduancment, for by that meanes he becomes Clark of their hall, and his office is to make counterfeit licences, which are called Gybes, to which he puts seales, and those are [...]earmed Iarkes. This Iack-man (for his knowledge) is haile fellowe well met with a Patrico, who amongst Beggers is their preist, euerie hedge being his parish, euerie wandring Harlof and rogue his parishioners: the seruice he saies, is onely the marrying of couples, which he does in a wood vnder a tree, or in the open field, and the solemnitie of it is thus: The parties to be wedded, finde out a dead horse,The Ceremony of marying Roagues vnder a heddge. or any other beast, and standing one on the one side, and the other on the other, the Patrico bids them to liue togethe till death them part, and so shaking hands, the wedding dinner is kept at the next Ale house they stumble into, where the musicke is nothing but knocking with Cannes, and their dances none but druncken Brawles.

An Irish Toyle.

IN this [...]orrest of Wilde men, the safest Toyles to pitch is the Irish Toyle, which is a net so strougly and cunningly wouen togither, that they who goe a hunting with it, catch the [Page] Common-wealth, and Connycatch the subiects: for an Irish Toyle is a sturdy vagabond, who scorning to take paines that may make him sweate, stalkes onely vp and downe the Countrie with a wallet at his backe, in which he carries, laces, pins, points and such like, and vnder collour of selling such wares, both passeth to and fro quietly, and so commits many villanies as it were by warrant.

A Swigman.

LIke vnto him in conditions is a Swigman or pedler, carrying a packe behinde him in stead of a Wallet: their trades are all one, sauing that the Swigman is somewhat better in behauiour, though little differing in honestie. They both stand in feare of the Vpright-man, and are forced oftentimes to pay him toale out of their packes.

A kinchin Coe.

THe last rank of these Run-agates is fild vp with Kinchin Coes; and they are little boyes, whose parents (hauing béene Beggars) are dead, or else such as haue runne away from their Maisters and in stead of a trade to liue by, followe this kinde of life to be lows [...]e by. These Kinchins, the first thing they doe is to learne how to Cant, and the onely thing they practise is to creep in at windowes or Celler doores.

Thus haue I opened vnto you halfe the nest of this generation of Uipers, now will I discouer the other halfe, wherein [...]its a broode of Serpents, as dangerous and as loathsome as these: of which the young ones and the least are called Kinchin-Mor [...] ▪ and those are Girles of a yeare or two old, which the Morts (their Mothers) carrie at their backes in their slates (which in the Canting tongue are sheetes) if they haue no children of their owne they will steale them from others,A kinchin. Mort. and by some meanes disfigure them, that by their parents they shall neuer be known.A Dell. The second bird of this feather is a Del, and that is a yong wench, ripe for the act of Generation, but as yet not spoyled of her maiden-head: these Dels are reserued as dishes for the Vpright-mē, for none but they must haue y• first tast [Page] of them, & after the Vpright-men haue defloored them, (which commonly is when they are verie yong) then are they free for any of the brother-hood▪ & are called Dels no more, but doxies. Of these Dels some are tearmed Wilde-dels, and those are such as are borne and begotten vnder a hedge: the other are yong wenches that either by death of parents, the villanie of Executors, or the crueltie of Maisters or Mistresses fall into this infamous and damnable course of life. When they haue gotten the title of Doxies, then are they common for any,A Doxi [...]. and walke for the moste part with their betters, (who are a degree aboue them) called Morts▪ but whensoeuer an Vprightman is in presence, [...] the Doxie is onely at his commaund. These Doxies will for good victualls or a small peece of money, prostitute their bodies to seruingmen if they can get into any conuenient corner about their Masters houses, & to ploughmen in Barnes, Haylo [...]ts or stables: they are common pick-pockets, familiars with the baser sorts of cut-purses, and oftentimes secret murtherers of those infants which are begotten of their bodies. These Doxies haue one speciall badge to bee knowne by, for most of them goe working of laces and [...]hirt strings, or such like stuffe, onely to giue colour to their idle wandring.

Of Morts there be two kinds, that is to say, a vvalking mort and an Autem Mort: A walking Mort. the Walking Mort is of more antiquitie than a Doxie, and therefore of more knauerie: they both are vnmarried, but the Doxie professes herselfe to be a maide, (if it come to examination) and the Walking mort saies shee is a widow, whose husband dyed either in the Portugal voyage, was slaine in Ireland or the Low countries, or came to his end by some other misfortune, leauing her so many smal infants on her hand in debt, whome not being able by her honest labour to maintaine, she is compelled to beg. These Walking Morts trauell from Countrie to countrie, making laces vpon staues, & small purses, and now and then white vallance for beds: Subtill queanes they are, hard hearted, light fingerd, cunning in dissembling, and dangerous to be met if any Ruffler or Rogue be in their cōpany. They fear neither God nor good lawes, but onely are kept in awe by the Vpright-men, who often times spoile them of al they haue, which to preuent, the Walking Morts vse this pollicie, they leaue their money (sometime fiue [Page] shillings, sometimes ten shillings) in seuerall shires, with some honest farmers wife or others, whome they knowe they may trust, and when they trauell that way againe, at halfe yeares end, or a quarters, fetch it to serue their turnes, but dare [...]euer goe in good cloathes, least the Vpright-men either strip them into rags, or else starke naked, as they vse to doe.

An Autem Mort, An Autem mort. is a woman maried, for Autem in the Beggr [...] language is a Church: these Morts seldome keep with their husbands, but are from them sometimes a moneth or two, yet neuer walke they without aman in their company, and boyes and girles at their heeles of ten or twelue yeres old, whome they imploye at windowes of houses in the night time, or early in the mornings, to pilfer any thing that is worth the carying away (which in their tongue) they call Nilling of the Ken. These Autem Morts walke with wallets on their shoulders, and Slates (or sheetes at their backes, in which they vse to lie. Their husbands commonly are Rufflers, Vpright-men, or Wilde Rog [...]es, and their companions of the same bréed.

There is another Parrot (in this Bird-cage) whose feathers are more [...]leeke,A Bawdy basket▪ and tongue more smoothe than the rest, and she is called a Baudy Basket, these Baudy baskets are women that walke with baskets or Cap-cases on their armes, wherein they haue laces, pinnes, needles, white Inckle, tape, round white silke Girdles, and such like: these will buy Cony Skins, and in the meane time steale Linnen or pewter: they are faire spoken, and will seldome sweare whilst they are selling their wares, but lye with any man that hath a mind to their commodities The Vpright-men and these hold such league together, that whatsoeuer they haue is common to them both, and oftentimes will they with money releeue one another.

The selfe same Truce is taken betweene the Vpright-men and the damaunders of Glimmer, Demaunders of Glimmer▪ that is to say, those who trauell vp & downe with licences to begge, because their houses haue beene consumed with fire, for Glimmer (in Canting) signifies fire. These Glimmering Morts are so tender harted, y• they shed teares if they make but mention of their losses, & tell a lamentable storie how the fire destroyed their barnes, stables &c. all that they speak being meer lyes: they likewise carrie wallets at their [...]ackes, and are onely attended vpon and defended [Page] by the Vpright-men, who neuer walke along with them through any towne, but keepe aloofe.

And these (quoth the Hostesse of the Beggers) are al or the cheefest (both He-Deuils and Shee-deuils) that dance in this large circle. I haue brought you acquainted with their names, their natures, their tradings, and their traf [...]cke: if you haue a desire to know more of them, you shall finde whole congregations of them at Saint Quintens, y• Three-cranes in the vintry, Saint Tibs and at Knapsbury, which foure places are foure seueral barnes within one miles cōpasse néere London, being but Nick [...]names giuen to them by the Vpright-men, In those Innes do they lodge euery night; In those doe Vpright-men lie with Morts, and turne Dells in Doxies (that is to say rauish young wenches) whilst the Rogue is glad to stand at reuersion and to take the others leauings. In Midlesex likewise stand foure other Harbours for them, namely, Draw the pudding out of the fire (which is in the parish of Harrow on the Hil) The crosse keyes (which is in Cranford parish (Saint Iulians (which is in Thistleworth parish) And the house of Pittie in Northall Parish. The Kings Barne neere Darford, and Ketbrooke neare Blackheath, are likewise houses of good receit for them: In all Shiers haue they such Innes as these; and in all of them and these recited, shall you finde some times 40. Vpright men togither, ingendring beggers with their Morts. No sinne but is heere committed without shame, Adulterie is common amongst them, Incest but laughed at, Sodomy made a iest: At these Hauens do they cast anchor boldly because none are by to barre their entrance; yea those that are owners of these Barnes and Backhouses, dare not but giue welcome to these Vnruly Guestes; for if they should not, they would at one time or other set fire of their houses, or by bloudy and trecherous practises take away their liues. For this cause sir (quoth she) am I glad to looke smilingly vppon them, and to play y• Hostesse because my abiding stands so farre from company; yet I protest (quoth she) I hate y• sight of them as knowing them to be hell hounds, and haue made discouerie of their deuilish cōditions, because you may teach others how to auoyd them: and howsoeuer you may be drawn peraduenture to publish these abuses to the world (saide she) yet I pray you conceale my name, the publishing of which may cost me my life.

[Page] By this time, the fumes of Ale which had distempered her braines, and set her tongue a going were dispersed; so that both her lookes and speech shewing that she did not now dlssemble, but vttered these thinges vnfainedly, I gaue her many thanks for her Discouerie, counselled her to change her discomfortable Lodging, and to dwell in a place more inhabited (which she promised to doe) and away I went. A thousand cogitations kept me company as I trauelled alone by my selfe: sorry I was to heare that in those places where Innocence and Simplicity should be borne, so much and such vgly Villany should be nourished, yet was I glad that I came to the knowledge of their euils, because the dressing of such wounds in a common wealth, is the curing of them.

Looking therefore with more pearcing eies into the Country-life, I began to hate it worse then (before) I loued it, I fell to dispraise it faster then euer I did cōmend it. For I found it full of care, and full of craft: full of labour, and yet full of penurie; I saw the poore husbandman made a slaue to the rich farmer, the farmer racked by his landlord: I saw that couetousnesse made deere yeares when she had fullest barnes; and to curse plentie for being liberal of her blessings. I had heard of no sinne in the Cittie but I met it in the village; nor any Vice in the tradesman, which was not in the ploughman. All places therefore being haunted with euill Spirrits, I forsooke the fields & the Mountaines▪ and tooke my iourney back again to the citie whose customes (both good and bad) I desired to be acquainted with. It was my fortune to trauell so late, that the Moone had climed vp to the very top of Midnight, before I had entrance into the gates of the Citie, which made me make the more hast to my lodging, But in my passage I first heard (in some good distance before me (the sound of a bell, and then of a mans voice, both whose tunes seemed at that dead houre of the night very dolefull: On I hastened to know what noyse it should be▪ and in the end found it to be the Belman of London. The sound of his Voyce at the first put me in mind of the day of Iudgement; Men (me thought) starting out of their sleepes, at the ringing of his bel, as when they are to rise from their graues at y• cal of a trumpet: But when I approched neare vnto him and beheld a men with a lanthorne and can [...]le in his hand, a long staffe on [Page] his neck, and a dog at his taile, I supposed verily, because the Moone shone somewhat dimly, that the man in the Moone had lept downe from heauen, & (for hast) had left his bush of thornes behinde him. But these imaginations vanishing, as fast as they were begotten, I began to talke to my Bel-man, and to aske him why with such a Iangling and balling, and beating at Mens doores, he went about to waken either poore men that were ouer-wearied with labour, or sick men that had most need of rest? he made answere vnto mee, that the Ringing of his Bell, was not (like an Allarum in a town of Garrison) to fright the [...]habitants, but rather it was musiqu [...] to charme them faster with sleepe: the Bearing at their doores assured those within, that no théeues were entred, nor that false seruants had wilfully or negligently suffered the dores to stād open, to haue their masters robd, & that his crying out so loud, was but like the shrill Good morrow of a Cock, to put men (that had wealth enough) in minde of the time how it slideth away, and to bid those that are full of bustnesse to be watchfull for their due houres when they were to rise. He cald himselfe therefore the Centinell of the Cittie, the watchman for euerie ward, the honest Spy that discouered the prentizes of the night, and that as a lanthorne in the poope of a Ship, was a guide or comfort to sea-men in most pitchy darknesse, so was his walking vp and downe in the night time, a preuention to the Cittie oftentimes of much and many dangerous fires. I liked wel that thus he praised himselfe, because in those praises lay the commendation of an honourable, ciuill, and politicke gouerment. And so farre delt I with him that in the end he brought me acquainted with his office, aswell as he knew it himselfe, and discouered vnto me the properties of his walkes, as how farre his bounds reached; what mad hobgoblings he oftentimes encountred with, what mischiefs he now and then preuented, what knaueries he was now and then an eye witnesse to, and to what secret villanies (brought to bed in darknesse) he was compeld to be (though not the midwife) yet a gossip, present at the labour [...] and deliuerie. Of all which I hauing a longing desire to get the true pictures, and perswading him that he was bound by his place, by his conscience▪ and by the lawes of common humanity to lay open such plots as were [Page] so dangerous to the common wealth whereof the was a member, he yeelded at the length to discouer all that he knew, and for that purpose not only carried me home to his lodging where he gaue me the notes and names of sundrie abuses begotten in the dead of night, but also went vp and downe the Citty with me all the next day, shewing me the very doores and signes at which they dwelt, and the very faces of those that are the Deuills Factors in those lowe country commodities of Hell: I learnt much by the Bell-mans intelligence, but more afterwards by my owne obseruation and experience; what merchandize I stored my selfe with by both Voyages, heere doe I vnlade, and what profit soeuer arises by the traficke of them, shall if you please be wholly yours. And for that the Lading was of sundry commodities, I will deliuer them forth in their seuerall parcells, as I receiued them.

Of cheating Lawe.

ALL Vices maske themselues with the vizards of Vertue: they borrowe their names, the better and more currantly to passe without suspition: for murder wil be called Manhood, Drunkennesse is now held to be Phisicke, Impudence is Audacitie, Riot good fellowship &c. So are these Villaines (whose faces I mean to discouer) painted [...]ouer with fresh orient colours, because their lookes may be more pleasing, and lesse suspected to haue craft vnderneath them. And for that purpose haue their K [...]aueries gotten the names of Arts or Lawes, as the Act of such a thing or such a lawe, not that they are institutions set downe by lawe for the good of men, or of a common-wealth: but as the Lawe is grounded vppon reason, and hath Maximes of Iustices, vpon which she buildeth al her Policies whereby she gouerns kingdomes: So these new-found Lawes of the Deuils inuention, are grounded vpon Mischeife and are nothing else but certaine Acts and Rules drawne into heades (in an assembly of damned Wretches) for the vtter vndoing of Men, and confusion of a Weale-publike.

Of all which Lawes, the Highest in place, and the Highest in perdition is the Cheating Law, or the art of winning mony by false dyce: Those that practise this study cal themselues Cheaters, [Page] the Dice Cheaters, and the money which they purchase Cheates: borrowing the tearme from our common Lawyers, with whom all such casuals as fal to the Lord at the holding of his Leetes, as Waifes, Straies, & such like, are said to be Escheated to the Lords vse, and are called Cheates. This sorte of gamsters, were at first a few in number, (the art being odious) they were poore (as being hated and driuen from all good mens company.) But now, there are so many profest Cheaters, and so many that giue countenance to their occupacion, that they might make an armie sufficient to giue the Turke a battaile: now are they not hungry thread bare knaues, but gallants that ruffle in silkes, and are whorried through the streetes in Coaches, their purses being full of Crownes, and their fingers being held vp able to commaund the proudest Curtizan. Yea, to such a rancknes hath custome brought this vice, and to such a boldnes, that in the moste noble assemblies, at the best Ordinaries where your onely gallants spend afternoones, and in your most ciuill meetings of Merchants, your welthiest Cittizens, if they fall to play with Dice for any round summes of money, it is now growne to a fashion to haue some one or other to take vp the Cheaters weapons, and (without all respect of honestie, friendship or societie) to beate all commers.

A Cheater plaies his Maisters prize at 14. seueral weapons, and those weapons are these.

The names of false Dice.

A Bale of bard sincke Dewces.

A Bale of Flat sin [...]ke Dewces.

A Bale of Flat sice Aces.

A bale of bard sice Aces.

A Bale of Bard cater-treas.

A bale of Flat-Cater-Tre as.

A bale of Fullams.

A bale of light Graniers.

A bale of Langrets, contrarie to the vantage.

A bale of Gordes, with as many High-men as Low-men

for passage.

A bale of Demies.

A bale of Long-Dice for euen andod.

[Page]A bale of bristles.

A bale of Direct contraries.

These are the 14 diuelish hookes, by which the Cheater angl [...]s for other mens money, hee cares not in what Riuer, hee makes no conscience with what baite, so hee may haue good draughes to maintaine himselfe in ryots, and his whore in rich apparrell, thats the white hee shootes at Neither doth he let all these arrowes flie at one marke nor in all weathers, But some he shootes in one game, some in another, and as he findes what fooles are in his company, so does he bestowe his bolts. To set downe all the Legierdemai [...]e of this handy-craft, would peraduenture instruct some il minded persons in y• villany, which is published onely to haue others shun it: I will therfore shew you a few of their iugling tricks (tha [...] are Graduates in the art) and by the shape of them, iudge the rest, for all are alike.

A Langret is a Die which simple men haue seldome heard of, and hapily neuer seene (but to their cost) It is (to the eye of him that is but a Nouice) a good and square Die, yet it is cut longer vpon the Cater and Trea, then vpon any other point, & is for that cause called a Langret: these Langrets are also called Bard Cater Treas, because in the running, the longer end will commonly (of his own sway) draw downewards, & turne either Sice, Sink, Dewce or Ace vpwards on the board; y• principall vse of them is at Nouum. For so long as a paire of bard Cater Treas be walking, so long can you cast neitheir 5. nor 9. vnles it be by great chance, that the roughnes of the Table, or some other stoppe force them to stay, and to runne against their kinde; for without Cater Trea, 5. or 9. you know can neuer come. Here some may imagine, that by this meanes he y• hath the first Dice in his hand, may strip all that play at the Table of their money; but this must be their helpe. An odde diecalled a Flat Cater Trea, (and no other number) is to be ready at hand, for granting the Trea and Cater to be alwaies vpon the one die, then is there no chance vpon the other die, but may serue to make 5 or 9. and so cast forth and lose all.

The Cheater therefore marketh well the Flat, and bendeth a great part of his studie to learne when he is abroad, for so lōg as that is stirring, he will neuer cast at much: the shift which [Page] a Cheater is driuen to, in conueying the Flat in and out, is a notable cunning, and in their trade is calld Foysting; which is nothing else but a fleight to carry Dice easily in the hand so often as the Foyster listeth; so that when either he or his partner casteth the Dice, the Flat comes not abroad till he hath made a Great hand, otherwise the Flat is still sure to be One, vnlesse the Cheater of purpose suffers the silly Nouices, with whome he playes, to cast in a hand or two to giue them courage and to liue in hope of winning.

The damnable Oaths and Quarrells that waite at the table of Gamesters, are occasion that many men forbeareto venture mony in those sports, who otherwise would play▪ the Cheater therefore (being a cunning obseruer in all fashions) wil seldome sweare (if he haue gotten a Gul into his company whome he is loath to anger for feare he loose him) and as seldome swagger, but wil rather put vp an open wrong, then by a foolish braule to breake off the cōpany and so hinder himselfe and his consort of purchase: But if he sweare, you would take him for a puritane, for his oaths are Of honestie, Of troth, by Saint Martin. &c. And take this note, that when he sweares affirmatiuely, he means alwaies the contrary. As for example, if I say vnto you when the Dice come to your hands, Of honestie cast at al, my meaning is, you shall cast at the table, or else at very little: or if when one being stript out of all his mony, offer to pawne a Ring or a Iewell, and I sweare by Saint Martin I thinke it is fine gold, then do I mean that it is pure copper, and so of the rest: He that is drawne in to venture his money, is (amongst this cursed brotherhood of Cheaters) tearmed a Cosen, and is handled so kindly, as if he were a Cosen indeed: if he once set in a foote, and that they fall to Hunt him▪ then al the craft is to make the Cony sweate, that is to say, so wisely to handle him, that he may haue a desire more and more to play and to keepe company; yet so warily to increase this appetite in him that he Smoake not the Cheater, which is, that he smell not what knauerie is bent against him and so slip the coller like a Hoūd, and shake off the company for euer.

At the taking vp of a Cosen, the first Veny that a Cheater giues him, is to learne before he play what store of Bit he hath in his Bay, that is, what mony he hath in his purse, and whether [Page] it be in great Cogges or small: that is in gold or siluer, and at what game he will soonest stoope; for that being knowne, his humor is fed, and he is choked with the meat he loues best. For some that will not play a groat at Nouum, will loose a hundred pound at Hazard, and he that will not loose a shilling at Dice, will play away his patrimony at Cardes: for which cause the Cheater furnisheth himselfe for all voyages, but especially prouides for fine Cheates, and to atchieue which with more ease, he acquaints himselfe with Dice-makers, that worke in corners, (U [...]rlets they are that are Factors to the deuill, and for money will exchange their soules in a bale of Dice) These Dice makers, arme the Cheater with the foresaide 14 weapons, and then he is a Cheater compleat.

One notable policy is (as a Rule) set downe in this Schoole of cheating, & that is, A Cheater neuer discouereth the secrets of his Art to any, vnlesse it be to such a one who being left by his parents rich in money and possessions, hath to the musicke of square rafling bones danced so long, that he hath danced himselfe into the company of beggers, and is brought to such want and misery, that he would leaue no stone vnturned to finde a pennie vnder it. Such a wretch is instructed in those Villanies, by which he himselfe hath bene wrought to infamy: the poyson y• once he swallowed doth he now cast vp to kill others with it. Neither doth the Cheater bestow this learning vpon his yong Scholler, out of a commiseration of his low estate, but onely to make vse of him, euen in the height of his extremitie. His lorny man therefore doth he make him, and because the Cheater is happily a man so noted in al companies, that few or none wil venture money where he playes, the Nouice is taught to play his schollers prize, whilst the other stands by and lookes on, yet so, that the Cheater hath the swéetnes of the gaines. The Nouices imployments then, are amongst his rich Kinred, Countrymen, or acquaintance to finde out Cosens; whome he must by one trick or other get to a Tauerne, or inuite them to [...] supper, at the end of which, the Cheater layes about him to draw them to play, & secretly lends his Pupill mony to maintaine game, both their wits working how to cheate those that are in the company. We haue bene to long at Dice, lét vs now fall to Cardes.

[Page]

Of Barnards Law.

DIce and Cardes are Twins, idlenesse was the father of them, Desire of gaines the mother, Honest Recreation saies she was their Nursse, and ought to haue the bringing of them vp: but howsoeuer, the Deuil makes them now his adopted Children: and no wonder, for they are like in conditions, as being both (like him) full of deceipt: if there be cousnage in tripping of a die, there is the like craft in shufling and sorting of a paire of [...]ardes: insomuch, that what game soeuer is on foote, He that is marked out to be the looser (by the Synodycall assembly and Fathers othe Barnards Law, is sure neuer to depart a winner.

To speake of all the sleights vsed by Cart-players in al sorts of Games, would but weary you that are to reade, and be but a thankles and vnpleasing labour for me to set them down. Omitting therefore the deceipts practised (euen in the fairest and most ciuil companies) at Primero, Sannt, Maw, Tromp, and such like games, I will onely lay open the villanies of a base kinde of people, that trauell vp and down the whole land, sometimes in the habit of Gentlemen, sometimes of Seruingmen, sometimes of Grasiers, Farmers and plaine fellowes, maintaining themselues onely by the cozenage they vse in Cardplaying: which kinde of play of theirs, they call The Barnards Law.

To act which knauish Comedy of Wily-begily, 5. Persons are required: and those are,

1 The Taker.

2 The Cozen.

3 The Verser.

4 The Barnard.

5 The Rutter.

These are the players: now shall you heare their parts.

1 The Taker, is he that by some fine inuention fetch [...]ht in the man whome they desire to draw into Gaming.

2 The Cozen is the partie that is taken.

3 The Verser, is a fellow more graue in spéech & habit, and [Page] seemes to be a landed man his part is to second what the taker begins, and to giue countenance to the act.

4 The Barnard is the chiefe player, for he counterfeits many parts in one, and is now a drunken man, anon in another humour, and shifts himselfe into so many shapes, only to blind the Cozen, and to feede him with more delight, the more easily to beguile him.

5 The Rutter is as arrant a knaue as the rest, his part is discharged when hee hath begun a fray with his owne shadowe, whilst the rest that haue made a younger Brother of the poore Cozen, steale out of sight. Now to the countrie it selfe: The Prologue of which if it goe off well, there is good hope all shall end well: All the cunning thereof is how to begin, and to do that, the Taker studies his part at his fingers endes. The Stage on which he plaies his prologue is eitherin Fleet-street, the Strand, or in Paules, and most commonly in the after-noon, when Countrie Clyents are at moste leasure to walke in those places▪ or for dispatching of their businesse, trauell from Lawyer to Lawyer, through Chancerie lane, Holborne, and such like places.

In this heate of running to and fro, if a plaine Fellowe well and cleanely apparelled, either in home-spunne Russet or Fréeze (as the season requires) with a side pouch at his girdle, happen to appeare in his rusticall likenesse. There is a couzen saies one. At which word out flyes the Taker, and thus giues the on-set vpon my olde Penny-father. Sir, God saue you: you are welcome to London, how doe all our good friends in the Countrie? I hope they be well: the Russetting amazed at these salutations of a stranger, replies: Sir, all our friendes in the countrie are in health, but pra'y pardon me, I know you not beleeue it: No (answers the Taker) are you not a Lancashire man, or o [...] such a countrie? if he saies yes, then the fish nibbles and he giues him more line to play with: if he say no, then the Taker hath about with another weapon, & sweares soberly, In good sooth sir I know your face, & am sure wee haue bene merie together, I pra'y (if I may beg it without offence) bestow your name vpon mee, and your dwelling place. The innocent man, suspecting no poison in this gilded cup, tels him presently his name and abiding, by what Gentleman he dwels. &c. which [Page] being done, the Taker for thus interrupting him in his way, and for the wrong in mistaking him for another) offers a quart of wine: if the Cozen bee such an asse to goe into a Tauerne, then hee is sure to bee Unckled, but if hee smack my Taker, and smell Gun-powder traines, yet wil not be blown vp, they part fairly, and then to the Verser goes the Taker, discouering what he hath done, and deliuers the mans name, countrie, and dwelling to the Verser, who boldly stepping to him, or crossing the way to meete him full in the face, takes acquaintance presently of him, salutes him by his name, inquires how such and such Gentlemen doe, that dwell in the same towne by him, and albeit, the Honest Hobnaile-wearer, can by no meanes bee brought to remember this new friend, yet will he nill he, to the Tauerne he sweares to haue him, and to bestowe vpon him the best wine in London.

Diuers other pullies (if these two faile) haue they to drawe simple men into their company, as by dropping a shilling in the open way, which being taken vp in the Countrie-mans sight, must be spent in wine, because he shall haue his halfe part, or by intreating him to step into a Tauerne till the Verser haue writ a word or two into the Countrie, which hée must carrie to his friendes, offering the Cozen a shilling for his paines. But the conclusion of all is, that if they thinke his bag is well lined with siluer, to the Tauerne by one subtill hooke or other, they will pull him, where being set with the Verser, and the Taker, and wine called for: In comes the Barnard stumbling into the Roome, as if it were by chaunce, seeming to be halfe drunke: and crying the companye mercie for beeing so bolde with them, they modestly answere no hurt is done, and aske him if hee will drinke with them? hee takes their offer, and sweares to pay for a pinte of Wine, which they by no meanes will suffer.

But the Barnard telling them he has money for what he cals, and vsing phrases fit for a drunken man, out flies some 20. or 40. Angels on the board, which he puts vp presently againe and saies, séeing they will not suffer him to paye for a pinte, hee will play at cardes for it with any one of them at a new game which he learnt but now, with the losse onelye of a pot of Ale. The rest of his consort (making as though what they doe is to bee [Page] rid of him are content to play for a pinte and no more. The Taker or the Verser is the man must play with him, the Cards are fetcht, Mumchaunce or Decoy is the game: the first wager is wine, the second two pence in money, from two pence they rise to a shilling from that to a pound, and hauing drawn some good store of gold from the Barnard, the Cozen (allured with the sweetnes of gaine, and hope of winning, seeing the other halfe drunke, as he imagines) is offered to be half in whatsoeuer is woon: he stoops to this lure, but the bush is so well beaten by these subtill fowlers, that in the end, all the birds are flowne out of the Cozens hand, and hee hath not one pennye left him in his purse: if then he smell the knauerie, and fall to calling for a Constable, swearing the drunken rascall hath cozened him (for the Barnard you must knowe carries away all the money) then enters the Rutter, who picking some idle quarell either in the roome, or at the streete doore, the couey of the cheat [...]s take their flight in the meane time, and that (with the sharing of the purchase in another Tauerne) is the Epilogue to their commedie, but the first entrance to the poore countrimans Tragedie.

These Comedians strowte likewise vp and down the countrie in the habites of Seruingmen, and silly fellowes, haunting Brainford, Kingston, Croyden, Rumford, & such other places neerest London vppon the Market daies onely, and at the ende of market, when Butchers, grasiers & others whom they think to be stored with money are on their way home, then will one of this crew ouertake them in ryding, and light at some town of purpose to mend his girt, to remooue a shooe of his horse, or vppon any other excuse, intreating the company (with whome he is newly acquainted) to stay and drink a pot with him in the meane time. And in these countrie voyages doe they saile by other points of the compasse, the windes are not so boisterous, nor the Seas so rough as the former, for heere is there neither one that plaies the drunkard nor any that swaggers, but these deuilish Masquers, passe vnder these names at such méetings. viz. 1 The partie that fetcheth in the gul, (whose feathers they meane to pluck) is not called the Taker, but the Setter 2. He that seconds him, keepes his first title, and is called the Verser. 3 He that looseth his money, not a Cozen but a cony. 4 H [...] [Page] that comes in, and before counterfeited the drunken Barnard, is now sober and called the Barnacle.

Sometimes likewise this Card-cheating, goes not vnder the name of Barnards Law, but is called Bat-fowling, and then the Setter is the Better, the foole that is caught in the net, the Bird, the Tauerne to which they repaire to worke the Feate is the Bush, the wine the Strap, and the Cardes the Limetwigs.

Thus haue I discouered a strange Art, by which Conyes are caught after a new manner of hunting, a [...]d Cozens found out that were neuer of the kindred before. Thus the honest farmer simply going about his businesse, is stripped of that money, which should further his Law-sutes, and so perhaps is ouerthrowne; Thus the Seruingman being sent with his Lords treasure, is cheated and turned out of seruice: Thus the prentice hauing his Maisters wealth in his hand, is rob'd (by tame theeues) and in the end driuen to run away or to dye in prison. Thus the Gentleman comming new to his land is made a begger: thus the Merchant is vndone. Thus all men are abused. Thus the cōmon-wealth is dishonoured by feeding such vipers in her wombe, that cannot liue but by gnawing out of her bowels.

Vincents Law.

THe Dycing Cheater, and the cozening card-player, walk in the habites of Gentlemen, and cary the faces of honest men. So likewise doe those that are students in the Vincents Lawe: whose Inne is a bowling Alley, whose bookes are bowles, and whose law-cases are lurches and rubbers. The pastime of Bowles, is now grown to a common exercise, or rather a trade, of which some of all companies are free, the sport is not so common as the cozenage vsed in it, which to haue it liue with credit and in a good name, tis called the Vincēts law.

In this Law they which play bootie are the Bankers.

He that betteth is the Gripe.

He that is cozened is the Vincent.

The gaines gotten is called Termage.

The Bankers are commonly men apparelled like honest and [Page] substantiall Citizens: who come into the Bowling Allies for a rubbers or so, as though it were rather for sport, then for any gaines, protesting they care not whether they winne or loose: which carelessnes of theirs is but a shadow to their pretended knauery: whilst they are crying Rub, rub, rub & a great one, In come the spectators dropping one by one, and stand leaning ouer a Raile to beholde them; of which oftentimes some simple men that neuer saw common Bowling Ally before, may perhaps be of the number, and is brought in of purpose by one of their own Brotherhoode to be rid of his mony: if such a young bird happen amongst them, and do once but chirp, thats to say either take or offer any lay, they all harken to his note, especial [...]y if he sing shrilly, thats to say be deepe: if there be good store of Lookerson, then are there certain olde soakers, whose office is to doe nothing but listen for bettes either euen or od: & these are called Gripes; which Gripes will refuse no Lay, if the [...]ds may grow to their aduantage, for the Gripes & the Banckers are sworn brothers to the deuil (their father in lawe) and the bowles haue such vertue in them that [...]heir biasses will directly run▪ as the Gripes haue placed their Bets. the Banckers (albeit they so play as if they minded nothing but their owne game) yet haue still an eare how the layes are made, and according to that leuell do they throw their bowles, so that be sure the bowlers play booty: for suppose 7. be vp for the game, and that the one side hath 3. the other none, then the Vincent (who is the Nouice that standeth by, and is not acquainted with the tallents of these Gripes, nor feeles not when they draw bloud of him, no nor doth not so much as carrie an euill thought of the bowlers that they should play booty, looking so grauely and so like to honest men) hee poore colte, seeing three to none, beegins to grow lustie, and to offer odds on that side which is fairest for the game: what ods saies the Gripe? 3. to one cries the Vincent: no sayes the Gripe it is more, and with that the Bankers are come to foure for none, then the Vincent offers to lay foure to one: I take six to one sayes the Gripe, I lay it cryes the Vincent: and so they make a bet of six crownes, shillings, or pence, as the Vincent is of abilitie to lay: and thus will sundry take their ods of him: On then goe the Bankers with the game and win another cast which is fiue for none; at [Page] this fooles fortune of his, the Vincent grinnes for ioy, scratches his elbowe, and is so proud, that no ground about the Alley can hold him, thinking verily both by the ods and goodnesse of the play, it is impossible for his [...]i [...]e to loose, and therefore (being now foole-hardy) hee takes and layes bets freelye: all eyes greedily marking the euent of this storme; At the length on a suddaine, the Sunne begins to shine on the other side that were none, and they winne perhaps so long till they come to three or fiue, and still as their luck altars, diuersitie of bets are laide; till at last they are fiue for fiue: and then the Gripe comes vpon the Vincent, and offers him ods, which if the Vincent fasten vpon, he looseth all, for vpon what side soeuer the Gripe layes, that side euer wins, how great soeuer the odds be at first on the contrarie part, so that the cosenage growes in at playing bootie. This sowre banquet to the Vincent is seasoned with sweet meats to the Bankers and y• Gripes, who at night meete in some Tauerne, and share the money gotten by this base meanes, which money they call Termage.

Now to shadow the villany the more, the Banker that wins and is a forehand with the game, will lay frankly that hee shall winne, and will bet hard, and lay great ods, but with whom? either with them who play with him that are as crafty knaues as himselfe, or else with the Gripe, and this makes the Vincent to stoope to the blow the sooner. Besides, if any honest men that holde themselues skilfull in bowling, offer to play any set match against these common bowlers, if these Bankers feare to haue the worst and suspect the others play to be better than theirs, then haue they a tricke (in watring of the alley) to giue such a moisture to the bank, that hee who offers to strike a bowle with a shore, shall neuer hit it whilst hee liues, because the moysture of the Bancke hinders the proportion of his Ayming. Many other practises there are in Bowling, tending to cozenage, but the greatest and grosest is Booty, in which the deceipt is so open and palpable, that I haue seene men stone blinde offer to lay bets frank [...]y, although they could see a bowle no more then a post, onely by hearing who plaide, and how the olde Gripes had made their layes.

Thus, sports that were inuented for honest recreation, are by the wicked abusing of them, turned to mens confusion: And [Page] not onely in these games before rehearsed, but also in those that are both more laudable, and more lawfull. For in the Tenniscourt cheating hath a hand, yea and in shooting, which is the noblest excercise of our English Nation, arrowes do now and then flie with false feathers. Since then that all kinde of Gaining serues but as gulphes to deuoure the substances of men, and to swallow them vp in beggerie, my counsell is vtterly either to refraine such pastimes, or if men are of such spirits that they must needes venture their money, then to be very prouident how they play, and to be cho [...]se of their company. Now let vs turne ouer the volumes of other Lawes, enacted in the Parliament of these Deuills.

The Black Art.

HAuing waded thus farre in these puddles of damn'd impiety, it shall not be amisse to goe on, and search euen to the bottome and farthest shoare of them: to effect which the sooner, we must now deale in the Blacke Arte. It is not that Black Art, by which men coniure vp spirits, and raise Deuils in Circles, to tell where money is hid, or whether goods that are stolne are conuaied; But this Black Art, is to fetch away money where it lyes, and to raise vp a fiend in a rich Mercers or Goldsmithes shop at midnight without the gibrish of a staring Coniurer. This Blacke art works in darkenes, as wel as the other: it deales with the Deuill as the other doth, and is as vnlawfull as the other is: it you will needes (in a word) know the misticall meaning of this blacke Arte, it is called in English Picking of Lockes, and this Engine of mischeife turnes vpon these fiue whéeles, viz.

The Picklocke is called a Charme.

He that watcheth if any body come is the Stand.

The tooles that doe the busines are called Wresters.

Picking of the locke is called Farsing.

The gaines gotten is Pelferie.

Now albeit that two persons only are imployed in this vndermining of a doore, viz the Charme & the Stand, yet the burglarie is committed by other hands, which are in a readinesse to receiue the goods (when the house is entred) and to conuey [Page] them in parcells away. The Charme (who is the master of this black Art, goes like a coniurer, with a number of keyes and wrests like so many Pentacles) about him, which he calls picklocks, and for euery sundrie fashion they haue a sundrie terme, but being ignorant of their words of Art, I omit them, onely assuring you thus much, that the Charme hath such cunning, and such dexteritie in opening of a locke (and that without any great noyse) that no ward whatsoeuer (be it neuer so doubled) but flies backe at his Iugling with it. Some haue their instrumēts from Italy made of steele, some are made here in England by Smiths that are partners & pertakers in their villanous occupations. But howsoeuer, the trade of Lockpicking may well be called the Black-Art, for none study it, but those that for other mens goods haue folde their very soules to the Deuill.

The Curbing Law.

THe Black Art and the Curbing Law, are grounded both vpon the selfe same positions: for the Blacke Art teaches how to breake open a lock, the Curbing Law how to hooke goods out of a window; they both are workers in Iron, both are begotten in Idlenes, both liue by villanie, and both die by infamy▪ A smith is the maker and setter vp of these two trades the hangman is the vtter vndoer of them. This Curbing Law spreads it selfe into foure maine branches.

He that hookes is calld the Curber.

He that plays the spy is the Warpe.

The Hooke is the Curbe.

The goods are called Snappings.

The Gin to open the window is a Tricker.

The office of the Curber is for the most part betimes in the mornings (at the discharging of a watch) to be vp more earely then a noyse of shrugging fidlers; and the husbandrie which he followes, is in the day time to watch what shops or windowes stand fittest for his trade, which if he finde easily to be opened, then the cony is in the pursute without much [...]retting: But i [...] he must take paines for his liuing, out come his Trickers, & then) as if he were a brother of the Black-Art) doth he with [Page] those Iron engines, cut a barre of Iron in sunder, in such sort that scarce the standers by shall heare him. The window being thus open, and that hee hath good hope to meete with fatte Snappings, (or rich purchase) the warp bustles to play his part and watches with cats-eyes in the darke, looking (like one a squint, or as if hee stood to catch Hares) two waies one to spie who comes, the other to note what comes out at the windowe: to carrie which away hee is furnished with a long Cloake. But first must the Curber play his prize, and that is with an Iron about nine foot in length, at whose end (being crooked) are thrée Tynes turned contrarie, so that they catch euerie way, if anye snappings be within their reach. This hooke or Curb is made with ioynts like an Angling rod, and in the day time is conueyed into the forme of a truncheon, and worne like a walking staffe till night, when it is put to doe other seruice. Whatsoeuer the Curber with his angle fishes for and takes, the warp beares it away, and he deliuers it either to a Broker or some bawd (for they all are of one feather,) of which Receiuers they haue as present money for it, as if they traded with merchāts. Then is ther (belonging to this facultie) a Diuer, and he is iust in the nature of a Curberf, or as the one practises his villany with a hooke, so the Diuer workes his iugling feats by the help of a boy (called a Figger) whome he thrusts in at a casement, being so well studied that he hath the principles of the Black Art, and can pick a locke if it be not to much crosse warded: this Figger deliuers to the Diuer what snappings he finds in the shop or chamber.

The Prigging Law.

BEing weary with going thus farre on foote, let vs now (sithence we haue ouertaken a horseman) get vp and ride along with him. Yet now I looke vppon him well, it is more safetie and butter pollicie to let him ride by himselfe, for he rides circuite with the Deuill, and Dericke must bee his host, and Tyborne the Iune at which he wil light. This ranckrider is of the family of Kinghts e [...]ant, or of those wandring Rogues that march in the first files of my booke, his name is a Prigger, deriuing his title from his practise, which is called the [Page] Prigging Lawe, whose grounds are the cleanly and cunning staaling of horses.

This Prigging Arte runnes into six riuers, all of them falling into one streame, and all of them flowing from one head.

He that steales the horse is called the Prigger.

The horse is calld a Prancer.

The seller away of the stolne horse is a Martar.

The Tolling house is called Alhallowes.

The tiller is the Rifler.

The sureties at the toll-booke are called Querries.

A Prigger on foote is called Trayler.

The Prigger if he be a lance-man (that is to say, one that is already horst) then rides he in state, attēded by followers, who are either like his seruants in liueries, or in the hat it of gentlemen, or most commonly in the shapes of Drouers: in this equipage do they walke vp and downe medowos and pastures or other inclosed grounds, as if their purpos [...] were to buy cattell, whereas their eyes are onely busled in noting horses, that are worth the stealing. & whether their héeles are fettred with horse [...]locks or no. The first circle being drawne in the day time, the next night following our Priggers fall to coniuring, and by the spells of the Black Art, picke open the Tramelles or locks, and then like Battes or Owles away they flye ouer hedge and ditch out of those quarters. The owners in the morning may smell out their footesteps and see which way they are rid post but vnlesse either the Deuill himselfe either went with a candle and lanthorne before them, the Priggers would neuer be found, or else carried them on his back, and bid them to hold fast by his hornes whilst he gallopped, it were not possible to ouertake them, For this policy they vse, if the Prigger steale a horse in York-shiere, he sels him in Surrey, Kent or Sussex; and their martars (so called of hunting Mort [...] or Faires) who receiue them at the Priggers hands, chop them away in some blinde faires or other after they haue kept them a moneth or two, til the breath of the Hue and Crie be blowne ouer.

If the horse be of any valew and much inquired after, or cary such brands or eare-marks about him, that they cānot put him off without daunger, then do these Prigges brand him with a [Page] crosse-brand on the former, or take away his eare-marke, and so keepe him at hard meate till he be perf [...]ctly recouered, or else will they sell him in Cornewal or Wales, if he be fetcht out of Cumberland, Lincolneshire, Norfolke or S [...]ffolke. But if the horse be openly colou [...]ed and without Brandes, then haue they shifts to spot them so strangely, that a man shall hardlye knowe his owne horse if he meet him as to marke a black-horse with saddle-spots, or to star him in the fore-head, and change his tail, the secrets of which are not fit in print to be discouered, least laying open the abuse, I should teach some how to practise it.

This is the life of the Prigger, who trauels vp and downe the whole kingdome vppon his Gelding of 20▪ and 40. pound price, and is taken for a man of good worth, by his outward shew, being (amongst his own fraternitie of horse-stealers) called a Prigging lance-man. But he that borrowes a [...]ag out of another mans pasture, and cares not so he may get money for him, how he puts him away, onely to supplye his wants, is called a Trayler: These Traylers trot vppon the hoofe, and are footemen, mean in apparel, though not mean in their theeuing trade: you shall haue them attired like plaine country grans, walking (like our thred-bare gallants in Poules) in boots without spurs, & sometimes without bootes, long staues on their necks, and black buckram bags at their backs, as if they were Lawyers Clients, and carried letters vp and down: But those buckram bags are the horses wardrobe: In those bags doe these sneaking Traylers put saddle, bridle, spurres, stirrops, and stirrop leathers, all this hackney housholde stuffe being made so quaintly, that the deepe slop of a hose is able to hide it: for the saddle is fashioned without any tree (yet hath it cantle & bolsters) but artificially quilted together with cloth & būbast, and with such [...]oldes that it may easily bee wrapt vp in a little roome: the stirrops goe with vices and ginnes, that one may put them into a paire of gloues, so likewise doe the spurres, and then a little white leather head-stall and reynes, with a small scottish brake or snaffle, all of them so neately framed, that a small bag will containe them. And looke how the Lance-man rides post when he fits vppon his prey, so when the Trayler, is in the Saddle, away hee gallops as if euerie Iade of [Page] seuen nobles price [...] were a winged Pegasus, selling him as farre off from the place where hee stole him, as possibly hee can.

Now because these Priggers though they breake the lawe in one point, yet they make it whole in another, and verie orderly come to the Toll-booke, bringing two of their owne religion) ciuilly attired (fitting the place) who not onely affirm but offer to depose that they know the horse to be his owne that sels it; yet are these caitifes no better then olde knights of the post that will periure themselues for pots of Ale, and neuer s [...]w perhaps either the Prigger, or the Prancer before: these wicked Elders, hauing for villanies bin banished out of Westminster Hall, or for their periuries stood and lost their eares on the pillorie, retire themselues into the country, and professe this kinde of life, being by the horse-stealers called (though they are farre vnworthie of so good a mame) Querries: leauing whome (with the horse-men their good Lord and Maisters) either to an amendment of manners, or to the mercy of the Hangman, who must teach them to ride his wooden curtal, let vs, because wee are now lifting them out of the sadd [...]e, turne ouer a new leafe, and reade a lecture in the Lifting law.

The Lifting Law.

THe Lifting Law, is not the Law of Porters, who liue by lifting, & cry to another, lend me your hand, when honestly they are to carrie a barthen for a penny, and safely to deliuer it to the owner backe againe: but this Lawe teacheth a kinde of lifting of goods cleane away. In such liftings are thrée sorts of Leauers vsed to get vp the baggage. viz:

He that first stealeth the parcell is called The Lift.

He that receiues it is the Marker.

He that stands without and carries it away, is the Santar.

The goods thus purchased, is called Garbage, which Garbage is sometime plate or Iewels, sometimes peeces of veluet, sometimes cloakes or Lawyers gownes, sometimes one thing sometimes another.

The practitioners of this lifting Law, take seuerall degrees; for some of them (& they are the Punies) are but base Rogues, [Page] that liue by lifting quart pots, platters, and such [...] out of Tipling houses, vnder colour of spending two or three Pots of Ale. These are the Rascallitie of this Heard. But the G [...]ntleman Lifter walkes with his Marker at his heeles, as if hee were a Countrie Gentleman of 500. a yeare, and comming into a Mercers or gold-smiths shop, presently casts by his cloak (to colour his intents) the Marker standing bare-headed not farre from him his worship then cals for a bolt of Satten, Ueluet, cloath of gold or siluer; or any of the richest commodities: & not liking the pile colour or brack, his eye must haue the choice of more, the Marker in meane time whilst the Mercer is busie and turnes his backe, hath the Garbage thrust towards him by the Lifter, and conueies it vnder his cloake, the Sentar who walkes in the streete, passing then in great haste by the doore, is called backe by the Marker, as if he were such a Gentlemans, Knights, or Noble-mans seruant: but the Sentar sweares he cannot stay, the Marker tels him he must needs haue one word with him, and so stepping along with him some part of the way, secretly conueies the Garbage to the Sentar.

Other Lifts there are, that haunt Noble-mens houses, at Marriages or solemne Reuelings in Christmas, and the Hals of companies when they make Feasts, at which times they lift away Goblets or other pieces of Plate, na [...]ery, or any thing worth the ventring for.

Others ply Counsellors Chambers, that are well clyented, and sit downe in the outer roomes like countrie men, hauing blacke boxes by their sides, and papers in their hand: but their attendance is not for counsell, nor to pay any fees, but to Lift away G [...]wnes or Cloakes, by the rules of their owne Law. The like paire of Indentures doe they draw in shops, betwéen Scriueners and themselues.

Another more cunning then all these Liftings, is when in an euening, a Batfowler walkes vp and downe the streetes, and counterfeits that he hath let fall a Ring, a Iewell, or a peece of Gold, requesting some Prentice (when there is but one in the shop) [...]o lend him his candle a while to find his losses, who simply doth so but the Lifter poring a good while and not meeting with his ring lets the candle in the end slip out of his fingers, and whilst the prentice steps in to light it againe, the Sentar or [Page] he himselfe steales what [...] garbage they can finger, and are gone in the meane time.

You haue another kinde of Lifter, or more properly a cunning night-shifter, and it is thus. You shal haue a fellowe, that is an euening or might time, or sometime at noone daies, as hee likes the company, and sorts his opportunitie, that wil wilfully drop sometime a spoone, other while a ring, or else some peece of coyned money, as the likenes of golde and siluer and so spurning it afore them in the view of others, to the end they should crie halfe part, which he taking hold of, saith, nay by my tr [...]th, what will you giue me and take it all? and so some greedy [...]ool [...]s offer thus much, thinking it golde, which the Lifter takes, as knowing it counterfeit, and so are they cunny-cought.

Then is there a kinde of Lift; who like a Iugler doth all his [...]eates of himselfe not caring for the helpe of others, hee goes [...]ttired like a S [...]ruingman, booted and spurd and dirtie as if he had new ridden: his haunts are the best townes in the countrie vpon market daies, but most commonly Faires: the birds he watches for are Knights, esquires, or Gentlemen that light at the greatest Innes, whether moste resort is, who shall no sooner come from horse but this Lifter is ready to hold his stirrop, or to walke his horse as officiouslie as if he wore his cloth: So that to the Guest hee seemes to be [...]ne to be belonging to the house and to the seruants of the house hee appeares to bee a follower of the Gentleman newly alighted. But the guest being departed from his Inne to the town, or into the Faire, backe comes this counterfeit Blew coate, running in all hast for his Maisters cloake [...]bag or portmantua, and calr to the ostler or Chamberlaine by his dame to deliuer it, because some things must be taken out for his Knight or the Gentleman his Maister, that are in it. The prey is put (hereupon) into the vultures tallants, and away flies he presently to his n [...]st, to feed and fat his rauenous gorge with the garbage which he hath gotten.

But what nests thinke you they flie to? marrie to the house either of some not [...]rious trebble-chind ba [...]de (in whose beddes commonly these Serpents lie lurking (who keepes a tipling house, and brings vp young Trugs (vnder the the collour of filling Ca [...]s) that are Harlots to the Lifts, or else to the shops of certaine brokers, who traffick only in this kind of merchandize [Page] and by bills of sale (made in the name of Robin-goodfellow and his crew) get the goods of honest Citizens into their hands, either detaining them so long in their chests till they be no more sought after, or else so altring them that the Owners shal hardly know them. Thus the Lift and his mates prepare the lime [...]wigs and catch the bird, but the Bawde and Broker eate the flesh and giue the other onely the feathers.

The High-Law.

ALl this while haue I read vnto you the beggarly Law, and base common Lawes of Villany, by which the Outlawes of a kingdome, and Out-casts of a well gouerned Common-wealth, maintaine their damnable courses. Now must you cast vp your eies and looke aloft, if you haue a desire to behold the picture of the High Law: which taketh that name from the high exployts that are acted by it: the Scholler [...] that learne it are called High Lawyers; yet they neuer walk to Westminster to plead, though oftentimes they are called to the Barre, but then it is to haue them to Hold vp their hands, that the hangman may tell them their fortune. All the former laws are attained by wit, but the High Law, stands both vpon Wit and Manhood. For the High Law is nothing else but taking a pursse by the High-way-side, so that to bee a good practitioner in this Law▪ a man needes no more but a bold stern look, a good heart, and a good sword: the cases that hee is to pleade vpon, is onely Stand and deliuer, Al trauellers are so beaten to y• trials of this law, that if they haue but rode ouer Shooters Hill, or Salisburie-plaine, they are as perfect in the principles of it, as if they had bene 7. yeares in the company of High Lawyers. The Counsell a High Lawyer giues is common, but his sées are vnreasonable, for he strips his Clients of all. The motions which he makes are both in Terme and out of Terme; I shall not néed therefore to open any of his Cases, But onely will tell you thus much, y• this high law is comprehended in fiue Volumes, viz.

The th [...]efe chat commits the Robberie, and is cheife clarke

to Saint Nichela [...], is called the High Lawyer.

He that setteth the watch is a Scripper.

He that stands Centinell and does watch, is an Oke.

[Page] He that is robd, is the Martin.

When he yeeldeth, it is called Stooping.

All the shires in England haue seene these High law matters tryed, and therefore if any would know them or the professors of them to a haire▪ let him but step into the Old-baily at any Sessions, and he shall heare more.

The Sacking Law.

THe companion of a Theefe is commonly a Whore; it is not a [...]isse therefore, to pinneon them together: for what the theefe gets the str [...]mpet spends. The trade of these Tale-bearers goes vnder the name of the sacking law; and rightly may it be called sacking, for as in the sacking of a Citty, all the villanies in the world are set abroach, so when a Harlot comes to the sacking of a mans wealth and reputation (for she bes [...]edgeth both together) she leaues no stratagem vnpractised to bring him to confusion. Westminster and Holborn haue chambers full of these students of the Sacking law. In Clerken well, they had wont and are still well cliented: White Friers is famous for their meeting: The Spittle flourishes with the yong frie that are put to it to learne it. Sacks come to these Mils euerie houre, but the Sacking-Law empties them faster then a Miller grindes his bushels of corne. He that hath a lust to practise this Law, must bee furnished with these fiue bookes. viz.

The Baud, who if she be a woman is called a Pandaresse.

The Apple-squire, who is to fetch in wine.

The Whore who is called the commoditie.

The Whore-house, which is called a Trugging place.

These fiue Authors are so wel knowne, and haue bin so turned ouer leafe by leafe, that euerie man (almost) that liues in sight of the smoake of the Cittie, hath them at his fingers ends, or if he cannot, it is an easie matter to finde them by a Table. I will onely referre you to the suburbs. But there is a second part of this Sacking-Law, and that inst [...]ucts Punckes to attire themselues neately in summer euenings, and about ten or eleuen of the clocke at night to walke vp and downe the moste peopled streetes of the City, verie soberly & gingerly, till the wine [Page] (by one Gull or other) be offered, which with a little intreaty she takes; but being in the midst of their bowles, or perhaps the silly cony being trayned home to a lodging, where he fals to Nibling; in comes a Ruffian with a drawn rapier, cals the Punck (as she is) damned whore, askes what Rogue that is, and what he does with his wife? The conclusion of all this counterfeit swaggering being a plot betwixt this panderly ruffian and the whore to geld the silly foole of al the money he hath in his purse, and sometimes to make him (rathe [...] then his credit should be called into question) to seale a bill or bond for other summes of mony at such and such daies, and so send him packing, when he hath paid too deare for a bad dish of meate which he neuer tasted▪ the base Applesquier and his young mistresse, laughing to sée what a woodcocke they pulld, and sharing the feathers betwee [...]e them. But when such comedies (of the Sacking law) as these, are plaide▪ then the Actors haue other names then are set downe before, and these they be:

The whore is then called the Traffique.

The man that is brought in, is the Simpler.

The Ruffian that takes him napping is the Crosbiter.

The Figging Law.

THe Parliament of these hel-hounds, it seemes will soone breake vp, for they stand now onely vppon the lest lawe; which they call Figging Law: in making of which lawe two persons haue the chiefest voices, that is to say the Cutpurse and he Pickpocket, and all the branches of this law reach to none but them and such as are made free denizens of their incorporation. This Figging Law (like the body of some monstrous and terrible beast) stands vpon ten feete, or rather lifts vp proudly ten Drago [...]-like he [...]ds: the names of which heads are these. viz.

He that cuts the purse is called the Nip.

He that is halfe with him is the Snap, or the Cloyer.

The knife is called a Cuttle-bung.

He that pickes the pocket is called a Foist.

He that faceth the man is the Stale.

The taking of the purse is called Drawing.

[Page] The spying of this villanie is called Smoking or Boyling.

The purse is the Bung.

The money the Shels.

The act doing is called Striking.

This Figging Law hath more quirkes and quiddities in it then any of the former; it is as dangerous to meddle with as the High-Law▪ in pleading whose cases men are at daggers drawing: the schollers of this Art are cunning Sophisters, and had neede to haue more eies then two in one head, because the Arguments they hold, and their bold villanies which they practise are argued vpon and iustified to his teeth, with whom they contend. The Foyst and the Nip (that is to say the Pocket di [...]er and the cut pursse) are pewfellowes together and of one religion, but differ in some points. A purse well lined is the wet Eele they both bob for, but they striue to catch it by the taile after seuerall fashions. For the Nip [...]works with his knife, the Foyst with his hand: the Nip cuts the purse, the Foyst draw [...] the pocket: both their occupations are taught them by the Deuill, yet they both brag of the excellencie of them and are ready somtimes to stab one another, about defending which is best for the Foist counts himselfe the better man, and therefore is called (by the liuery of his company) a gentleman Foist and so much scornes the title of a cut pursse, that he weares not a knife about him to cut his owne meate, le [...]t he be held in suspition to be a Nip, which he esteemes the ba [...]est office in the whole Army of Cheaters.

These schollers of the Figging lawe, are infinite in number, their Colledge is great, their orders many, and their degrées (which ar [...] giuen to them by the Seniors of the house) very ancient but very abhominable.

The language which they speake is none of those which came in at the confusion of Tongues, for neither infidell nor Christian (that is honest) vnderstands it, but the Dialect is s [...]h and so crabbed; that seuen yeeres study is little inough to reach [...]o the bottome of it, and to make it run off glib from the tongue: by means of this Gibrish, they know their owne nation when they meete, albeit they neuer saw one another before; and▪ [...]o conformable are they to the ordinances of the Brotherhoode, that whatsoeuer y• wicked Elders amongst th [...]m shal prescribe, [Page] Actum est, tis a lawe, and they will not breake it, yea [...]ot th [...] proudest of them dare be so bolde as to exercise his Art in any other place but in those that are appointed to him, nor once presume to set his foote into anothers walke, but by licence of the Signiorie.

For that purpose therefore, (as if a whole kingdome were theirs) they allot such countries to this Band of Foists, such townes to those, and such a Cittie to so many Nips: whereuppon some of these Boote-halers are called Termers, and they plye Westminster Hal: Michaelmas Terme is their harue [...] ▪ and they sweaf in it harder then reapers or hay makers doe at their works in the heat of summer▪ no Counsellor▪ Attourney, Pettifogger nor Solliciter is vp earlyer then they: nor at the Hall sooner then they: when C [...]yents begin to come crowding in, watermen ply not their fares more nimbly then the Nips, & Foists bestir themselues to picke vp their shels; the hal and the old pallace are their Hiues▪ and they worke in them like Bees: the Exchequer Chamber, Star-chamber, Kings-bench and Common-pleas and Chancerie are the beds of flowers, to which they flie humming too and fro continually to suck the hony of golde and siluer. If a poore Clyent doe but stand by his Lawyer, whilst hee is pleading, and drawes out his pursse to pay his fees for counsell, or to the Court for dispatch of his businesse, these furies are sure to be at his elbow, watching (with Hawkes eyes) on which side he puts vp his pursse, to that sid [...] they flie, and if their tallents can but touch it, it is their owne. Others of them haue all the flesh and fish markets allowed them for their walks, as Cheape-side, East-cheap, the shambles, both Fishstreets, the Stocks, and the Borough in Southwarke, in which places these faithfull Stewards of Lucifers housholde, cheapon all commodities, onely to note what money wiues or seruants that come to buy, haue in their purses, and where they put it vp, which being well obserued, the Stall plies his market, and followes him or her (whose siluer is condemned) till they come to a presse of people: then does the Stall keep a t [...]rusting and a Iustling, whilst in the meane time the Foist is either in their pocket, or the Nip hath the pursse sa [...]t by th [...] strings. Others haunt Ale-houses onely, & the Beare-garden: some haue their precinct lying in the walkes of Poules, their [Page] houres of meeting there being between 10 and 11. the strokes they strike being sometimes in the middle Ile, if it be in Term time, when the walks are ful, but most commonly at the dores of the Church, which they will choake, and striue for passage, whilst another does the [...]eat. At running at Tilt, the L. Maiors day, any great shooting, any fray, any solemne arraignment, or execution, is better to these Hell-hounds, than a quarter day is to a Landlord, or then fiue Sessions are to the hangman. Yea so feareles are these Diuels to be throwne headlong & quicke into the pit of damnation, that euen in Gods own house & the sacred Temple (doe they desperately commit their villanies, standing most deuoutly with eies eleuated vp to heauen before the preacher, where the presse of people is thickest, whilst their hāds are nibling in honest mens pockets for their purses, who are careles of such worldly matters there, as not mistrusting that anye so bad-minded dare enter into so holy a place. These Nips and Foists goe oftentimes cleanely away with the shels which they get, but oftentimes are they d [...]gged by certaine fellowes (called Cloyers) who hang vppon them like Burres, and are mor [...] troublesome then waspes: for no sooner is a Bung drawne, but the Cloyer steps in for his Tenth, which he cals Snappage, if the Nip denie Snappage, the Cloyer forthwith Boyles him, that is bewrayes him or seaseth on his cloake.

You must vnderstand likewise, that both of Nips and Foists there are two sorts, for there be Citie Nips and countrie Nips whose office is to haunt nothing but Faires: these country nips neuercome into London to doe any peece of seruice, but a [...] Bartholmewtide onely. Betweene these two sects is mortall enmitie, for if the Citie Foist spy one of the country Foists in london, he forthwith labours and laies waite to smoake or Boyle him, the like does the countrie Nip or Foist by him of the City. There are also women Foists and Nips as well as men, but farre more dangerous then [...] men: All the troopes of both sexes being subiect to the disci [...]ne of the Grand Nips & folsts, and from whome, the better to [...]ceiue directions both what to doe, and what quarters to keepe ( [...]or they shift their walkes according to the pleasure of the chiefe rangers, they haue a certaine house, sometimes at one end of the town, sometimes at another, which is their hall; at this Hall the whole company do [...] [Page] meete verie orderly: by which meanes whensoeuer any notable or workmanlike strok is stricken, though it were as farre as the North-borders, yet [...]an the rest of the Fig-b [...]ie [...] heere resident in London, tell by whome this worthy Act was plaide.

At this solemn méeting in their Hall, they cho [...]se Wardens, and Steward: the Wardens office is to establish wholesome Lawes to keepe life in their rotten common wealth, and to a [...] signe out to euerie man his Stations. The treasurers office is verie truely (though he be an arrant theete) to render an account of such monies as are put into his hands vpon trust: for of euerie purse (that is cleanely conueyed and hath good store of Shels in it) a ratable portion is deliuered (in Banck as it were) to the Treasurer, to the intent that when any of them is taken and cast into prison, a Flag of truce may presently be hung out, and composition offered to the wronged partie, thereby to saue a brother of the societie from riding westward. This had wont to be an order amongst them: But now the Under keepers of Newgate, (if complaint bee made to them for the losse of any pursse, tha [...]e a tricke to get a warant, into which warrant they put the names of nine or ten of the most notorious Foists and Nips that are free of their Gaole (which they call Whittington Colledge) and thos [...] Nips or Foists doe the Iaylors nip, till the money perhaps double) be restored, albeit not one of them that are specified in the warrant were guiltie of the fact: This trick dooth greatlye impouerish the tradesmen of this misterie, and may in time vtterly ouerthrowe the Students of the Figging Law.

The fiue Iumpes at Leape-frog.

THe whole volume of these detestable Lawes is now read ouer [...]to catch a heate therefore after so long fitting, let vs exercise our selues awhile at a new play, called the fiue Iumps at Leape-frog. The propertie of the game at Leape-frog, is (as euerie prentice and Carter knowes) for one man to stoope, to let another come ouer him, so in these Iumpes the running Cheaters sweate only to make a man stoope so lowe, that they may breake his backe, and then they ride ouer his miserie with laughter.

[Page] The first Iump is called Horse-coursing, and that is done thus: A fellowe in good cloaths and with an honest face to the eie, hires of a carier an Nag to ride along with him to Cambridge, Oxford Norwich, or any great towne of trade: but let the iourney be neuer so long, this Rider will end it in a forenoone at most, for whilst the Carier is busie about his téeme on the way, and looking to his charge, my horsecourser steps a [...]ide into some by-lane, and lights at some paltrie towne néere the citie where he will lye, till he haue in (capons and wine) eaten vp the cariers beast aliue; and then departs on foote, sending the poore man word where his prancer stands at rack and manger, who if he will haue him must disburse fortie shillings or three pound for his Iades dyet. The Hackney-men of Rochester haue bene oftentimes come ouer with this Iump at Leap-frog and know the game well, for a man cannot name it but they are ready to giue it a curse.

The second Iump is called carying of stones, and that is performed in this maner: A crue of sharking companiōs (of which there be sundry consorts lurking about the subburbs of this City) being driuen out of meanes, by leading base and idle liues, or else by their riotous expences amongst whores, practise to liue vpon the [...]ee-s [...]ple of their wits; & hauing amongst them all some little money left (which they call their Shooinghorne) they seeke out some blinde victualing house, or Cookes house, without the barres, whose Host (if it be possible) is either an asse easie to be ridden, or else a common drunkard. In this Colts house wil they sit [...]arowsing halfe cannes day and night, and pay royally at first for what they call, that shooing-horne of theirs drawing the Host and Hostesse on to beleeue they shall be made for euer by these guests: who to gull the poore Goosecap the better, draw all their acquaintance they can to y• house, neuer either drinking or feeding, but mine Host must sit at the bords end like a Magnifico in pomp, with his ale [...]dropt greafie doublet shining by candle light, as if it were an old rustie Armor scuruily scowred. But when these Horse-leeches haue suckt their guts full, or rather the pittifully complayning Hosts guts empty, y• he finds by his scores he can trust no more, then do they at one time or other talke of state matters, or of religion when the goodman of the house can scarce stand on his legges [Page] v [...]der his owne roofe, and trip him in some words, which the next day (being told of it, and the words iustified to his face) he knowes he dares not answere; with which hooke holding his nose to the grindstone, they write their mind in great round Oes of chalke, behinde a doore, which Oes they call stones: the waight of them being such, that looke how many shillings they make, so many times the wretched Hostesse cries O, as groning vnder the burden. Now Sir, of these Oes, twentie shillings make a loade, and ten pound make a barge-full: which when they haue well frughted, these Dunkerks h [...]yst saile and to Sea againe, they goe in another vessell to finde another Brazeeleman, y• is to say, into another tipling house to finde another Iade whome they may all saddle and get vp vpon: if their last host follow them with a Bailiffe or a Sergeant, they only hold vp a finger, naming a Purseuant and cry Mum, no more mine Host, you wot what, which words are of more power to blow him away, then if you firde him thence with traines of gunpowder. By meanes of this Iump, some Victualers haue leaped cleane out of doores, and with the fall haue bene ready to lye in the streetes.

The third Iumpe is called Fawning those that leape at it are Fawneguests, and that is done in the edge of an euening, when a Cheater meeting a stranger in the darke and taking him for another, gets the stranger by some sleight to a Tauerne, where calling for two pintes of sundry wines, the drawer setting the wines downe with two cups, as the custome is, the Iumper tastes of one pinte (no matter which) and finds fault with the wine, saying tis too hard, but rose-water and suger wold send it downe mecrily, and for that purpose takes vp one of the cups telling the stranger hee is well acquainted with the Boy at the Barre, and can haue two penny worth of Rosewater for a penny of him, and so steps from his seate, the stranger suspecting no harme, because the Fawne-guest leaues his cloak at the end of the table behinde him. But this Iump comming to be measured, it is found that he that went to take his ris [...]ng at the barre, hath stolen ground and out-leaped the other more féete then he can recouer in haste, for the cup is leaped away with him, for which the woodcock that is taken in the sprindge, must pay fifty shillings or three pound, and hath nothing but [Page] an old thredbare cloake not worth 10 greats to make amends for his losses.

The fourth Iump is called Fooletaking, and that is done seuerall waies, sometimes by setting a couple of suttle rogues to [...]ng ballads on a stall, till a number of people pr [...]sse about them to buy their trash, and then their purses being discouered, are quickly in the nips fingers. Others are Foole-taken by letting chambers to fellowes like seruingmen, in the name of such an esquire, or such a Knight, or such a captaine new come from the lowe countries, bringing in a trunck exceeding heauy, and crambd full of brick-bats, which is left in the hired chamber, and fiue times the value of it li [...]ted away in stead of it. With this [...]ump many maide seruants, and their wealthy Maisters haue bene ouer-reached by count [...]rfeit kinsmen that haue brought a cheese or a gammon of Bacon to the poore wench, claiming kinred of her whether she will or no, and afterwards beeing (for his cheese and bacon) inuited to the Citizens table hane in the night time taken away plate, or other commodities in exchange of his white-meats.

The fift Iump is called Spoone-meat, and that is a messe of knauerie serued in about Supper time in the edge of an euening likewise, It is done thus: A silly fellowe in shew, attired like a clowne, spurnes (being neere some candle that stāds on a stall) a paper before him, in which is wrapt vp a spoone, taking vp which and looking on it by the light, and making it knowne (by his loud talking and wōdring what he hath found) that he tooke it vp by chance, people flock about him, and imagine it is a siluer and gilt spoone, for it lookes very faire, but he seeming to be an innocent c [...]xcombe, kn [...]wes not h [...] saies, what he should do with such a gew-gawe: whereupon euerie one is catching at it, and offers him money for it, he wishes he had rather found money then such a bable, for he eates not his pottage in plate; in the end, some For amongst all the Cubbes that stand about him, whispers in his care, to haue it from all the rest and thrusts a crowne priuily into his hand. The Iumper takes it▪ and sneakes away, the other gets home as fast as he can, longing till he call his wife, all his houshold and neighbors about him, to shewe what a pen [...] worth [Page] hee met with, but the guilt spoone comming to be tried of what mettall he is made, the poore mans money prooues copper, and he himselfe is laughed at for a Coxcombe.

How long shall I saile vppon these godlesse waters? Is it not time to get a shore? Is it not fit that I should now sound a retreat and not wearie my pe [...] in the ex [...]ecution of such base and barbarous minded Caitiffes? What a battaile haue I vndertaken? and with what an ignoble enemie? to contend with whom, is an act inglorious, and to conquer whome (but that they are open and professed foes to the Republick, to honesty, to ciuilitie, and to all humanitie) were as much dishonor as by them to be ouercome. Who would imagine that a Kingdome so fertill in all sorts of wholsome discipline, there should growe vp such ranck and such pestilent beds of hemlocke? that in the very heart of a state so rarely gouerned and dieted by good lawes, there should breed such loathsome and such vlcerous impostumes? that in a Citie so politicke, so ciuill, and so seuere, such vgly, base and bold impieties dare shew their faces? What an Army of insufferable Abuses, defestable Vices, most damnable Vilanies, abhomiable Pollutions, inexplicable mischeifs, sordid inquinations, horible and Hel-hound-like-perpetrated flagitious enormities haue bene héere mustred together? vnder what deuilish commanders are they conducted? what colors of damnation do they fight vnder, what dismal Ensinge doe they spred? what forces do they bring into the field? how full of courage they are? how full of cunning? how politick are the Ringlead [...]rs of these Faries? how resolute are all the troops? what strange armor haue they (of subtiltie, & desperate boldnes) to encounter and set vppon their opposites? what Artillery haue they to batter downe, Order, Law, Custome, plaine dealing, and all the good guards and defences of Gouernement? What remaineth therefore (in an assault so dangerous to a Common wealth, and so hotly and daily prosecuted) but that Iustice her selfe must come into the field, leading with her all her forces? That the Triple Body of the state may knit all their Nerues together and sit in Counsell, setting down stratagems and lawes how to race for euer (out of so noble a Kingdome) [Page] such Rebels to the peace and honour of it? That the Reuerend Iudges may out of a detestation of the liues of these monsters, lock vp their eyes and eares from pittie, when any of these Sauages are caught and brought before them: That all inferior ministers of Iustice, may be vigilant, faithfull and seuere in haunting them into Gaoles, that are the fittest toyles for them to fall into, and that the hangman may not lye lazing and complaine for want of worke, so many infected bodies being to be found in euerie corner of the Land, whom no medicine can cure, but the phisicke which hee bestowes vpon him at the Gallowes? Where I leaue them, as to the [...]hauen in which they must all cast Anchor, if Dericks Cables do but hold and vnlesse they am [...]nd. Giue thankes to the Belman of London, if either profit or pleasure be gained by this Discouerie.

Operis Peroratio. A short Discourse of Canting, which is the Langguage spoken by all the Ragged Regiment, that serue vnder the collours of the Belman.

[Page]

THus ha [...]h our Belman (like a faithfull & watchfull Centinell) wall [...]t his reund: An armye of a moste strange people hath hee mustred together: In their true collours of villany hath hee drawn these Free-booters▪ their habits, their behauiours and their properties, are to the life discouered: yet all this is but a dumb picture. It shall not be amisse therefore it I giue speech vnto it by lending it a tongue. In dooing which you may perceiue how polliticke a Common-wealth these Out-lawes of the Kingdome maintaine among themselues, in deuising not onely strange and subtill Stratagems to vphold them in a base and idle licentious kinde of life, but also in inuēting a language which none vnderstand but those that are Students in their dambd Arte, the better to couer their villanies, when they (in their talke) practise to set them abroach.

My purpose notwithstanding in this is not to bestow vppon you so liberall and full a discourse, as this matter doth require, but only at this time to giue you a taste of that which in a secōd part of this booke shal (God willing) be more amply discouered. In which second part, our Bell man of London shall bring to light a number of more notable enormities (daylye hatched in this Realme) then euer haue yet bin published to the open eye of the world. These are smal spots, the other are the great blemishes, or rather the Vlcerous sores that make the bodye of kingdome appeare vgly and deformed. A larger nette shal then bee spread, and more dangerous serpents shal fal into the snare, to the intent that their stings may be pulled out, and all their poison may be drawne from them, to make those that as yet know not how infectious they are, be afraide to approach or to [Page] be in sight of such deuouring Monsters. But because I wil not haue them borne before theire time (being yet but in the shell) least by that meanes they miscarrie in their brood, and so you should be deceiued in your expectation: let vs in the meane time stand with attentiue eares, and listen to an Vprigh [...]-man, whome I espie ready to encounter with a Wilde-Roague. And this is their Dialogue.

A short Dialogue betweene an Vp-right-man and a Rogue in the Canting-language.
The Vpright Cofe Canteth to the Roague.

1 Vpr.

BEne lightmans to thy quarrones: in what lipken hast thou lipped in this darkmans? whether in a libbege, or in the Strummell?

2 Rog.

I couched a Hogshead in a Skipper this darkmans.

3 Vpr.

I towre the strummell tryne vpon the [...]bchett and tog [...]an.

4 Rog.

I say by the Salomon I will lage it off with a gage of bene bowse: then cut to my nose watch.

5 Vpr.

Why? hast thou any lowre in thy bung to bowse?

6 Rog.

But a flag, a win, and a make.

7 Vp.

Where is the ken that hath the bene bowse?

8 Rog.

A bene Mort, hereby at the signe of the prauncer.

9 Vp.

I cut, it is quire bowse, I bowsd a flag the last darkmans.

10 Rog.

But bowse ther a bord & thou shalt haue benship: towre yee, yonder is the ken▪ dup the Giger, and mawnd that is benship.

11 Vp.

This bowse is as good as Rome bowse▪ now I towre that bene bowse makes nase nabs, mawnd of this Mort, what bene pecke is in her ken?

12 Rog.

She hath a cackling chese, a grunting chefe, ruffe, peck, Cassan; and poplars of yarum.

13 Vpr.

That is beneship to our watch; now wee haue well bowsd, let vs strike some chete: yonder dwelleth a quire cuffen, it were benship to [...]ill him.

14 Rog.

Nay, bing we a wast to the hye pad, the ruffmans is by.

15 Vpr.

So may wee happen on the Harmans, and cly the Ia [...]ke, or to the quire ken, and scowre quire crampinges, and so to trymming on the chetes.

16 Rog.

The Ruffian cly thee, farwell and betrinde.

[Page] This is their phrase, this the Rhethoricke of our English Rogues and this (vpon aduice or ocasion) they varrie, putting out some words, & in their stead inuenting others more new. This was none of the language that was spoken at the confusion of tongues, but this is a meere confusion in it selfe. And because you haue no Dictionaries to giue you the English of these wordes, you shall haue the selfe same companions speake the same Dialogue in their owne naturall language.

The Vpright-man speaketh to the Rogue.

1 Vpr.

GOod morrow to thy body, in what house hast thou lyen all night? in a bed or in the straw?

2 Rog.

I slept in a barne this night?

3 Vpr.

I see the straw hang vpon thy cap and coate.

4 Rog.

I sweare by the Masse I will wash it off with a quart of good drinke, and then talke to me what thou wilt.

5 Vpr.

Why? hast thou any money in thy pursse?

6 Rog.

But a groate, a penny, and a halfe penny.

7 Vpr.

Where is the house that has the good drinke?

8 Rog.

Tis a good wench hereby at the signe of the horse.

9 Vpr.

I say tis small and scuruie drinke, I drunk a groat [...] heere last night.

10 Rog.

But drink there a shilling and thou shalt haue verie good, see, yonder is the house, open the dore and call for the best.

11 Vpr.

This drinke is as good as wine, now I see that good drinke makes a drunken head: aske of this wench what meate she hath in the house?

12 Rog.

She hath a Hen, a Pig, bacon, cheese, and milke-pottage.

13 Vpr.

Thats verie good for vs now we haue drunke, lets steale somewhat? yonder dwels a churlish cormorant, twere a good deede to rob him.

14 Rog.

So we may chance to sit in the stocks, and be either whipped, or had to prison, and there be shackled with bolts and Fetters, and then to be hanged on the gallowes.

15 Vpr.

The deuill take thee, farwell and he hang'd.

More of this Canting, with other matters of more worthy note shall be handled by our Belman at his second walking vp and downe the Cittie.

FINIS

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

The belman of London Bringing to light the most notorious villanies that are now practised in the kingdome. Profitable for gentlemen, lawyers, merchants, citizens, farmers, masters of housholdes, and all sorts of seruants to mark, and delightfull for all men to reade.

Dekker, Thomas, ca. 1572-1632.

Edition statement

1608

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Text Creation Partnership,

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2003-05 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A20042

ID [STC]

STC 6482

ID [STC]

ESTC S116075

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99851292

ID [PROQUEST]

99851292

ID [VID]

16563

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A20042)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 16563)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1601:10)

Source

— The belman of London Bringing to light the most notorious villanies that are now practised in the kingdome. Profitable for gentlemen, lawyers, merchants, citizens, farmers, masters of housholdes, and all sorts of seruants to mark, and delightfull for all men to reade., Dekker, Thomas, ca. 1572-1632.. The third impression, with new additions..

Extent

[72] p.

[By E. Allde] for Nathaniell Butter,. Printed at London :: 1608.. (By Thomas Dekker.) (With a title-page woodcut.) (Signatures: A-I⁴.) (Reproduction of the original in the British Library.)

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Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.

Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.

Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.

The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.

Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).

Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site.